


Tearing Through Heaven

by ShroomShake



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Awkward Crush, Blood and Violence, Caretaking, Childhood Friends, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, Slow Burn, Sometimes Out of Character, Violence, Yuri's here sometimes, mild jealousmitri, only one bed (kind of...), sothis is a meanie, wont be explicit but still like...kiddos begone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:40:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 66,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21816778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShroomShake/pseuds/ShroomShake
Summary: Dimileth slow burn. An AU where Jeralt never escaped the church with his child.In a world where Byleth is raised as the successor to the archbishop, and Sothis is not very nice, Byleth and Prince Dimitri find solace in each other as they bond over the voices in their heads.Blue Lions focused canon divergent route, focusing on Byleth and Dimitri. Mature themes.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 63
Kudos: 212





	1. Fleeting

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if this first chapter is kind of slow-things will gradually pick up! 
> 
> Also keep in mind that this is an AU, so I'll be diverging from canon quite a bit, and there might be some out of character moments. We really in it now.
> 
> *Check out this piece of art that inspired me! https://twitter.com/guessibetter/status/1185768591616028672

The way the seasons seemed to swiftly transform on the journey from Fhirdiad to Garreg Mach Monastery enchanted the young prince Dimitri. The nearer to the monastery the carriage approached, the warmer the air grew. Dimitri, able to shed his winter layers, wondered what awaited him. It was the beginning of the Lone Moon of Imperial Year 1174; as the year came to a close, the people of Fódlan took time during the month to reflect on the past year and their decisions, relationships, what they gained, and what they had lost. House Blaiddyd, having a tight, established relationship with the Church of Seiros as the ruling family of Faerghus, was embarking on a pilgrimage to the Central Church’s headquarters to worship, study, and offer their donations to the church. At the young age of twelve, it was Dimitri’s first time accompanying his father, King Lambert, outside of the Holy Kingdom.

When they arrived at Garreg Mach, a processional of knights greeted the royal family. The patronage the church was prepared to receive from House Blaiddyd warranted the extravagance under which they were received. The Knights of Seiros escorted King Lambert, young Prince Dimitri, and their retainers to the reception hall to receive their itinerary. 

Dimitri’s young mind paid no attention to the monologues of the squires and knights leading them along the monastery grounds. The majesty and beauty of the monastery delighted him; truly, this place was fit for the presence of a goddess.

For the month that the Blaiddyd house was to reside in the monastery, Dimitri would be led daily through a routine of educational instruction, theology lectures, combat instruction with the Knights of Seiros, and evening prayer. The schedule seemed a bit rigorous to Prince Dimitri, who held a small sliver of hope before arriving that the monastery would offer some respite to his usually busy days, but such was the way for a child of Faerghus’s ruling house. Like always, Dimitri resolved to dutifully obey his father and do his best to exceed his expectations.

The tour of the monastery was a bit overwhelming for Dimitri, but his interest piqued when they quickly passed by the Officers Academy. A school dedicated to the art of weaponry, tactics, magic, and battle-Dimitri hoped to find himself there as a student one day. The tour ended at the dining hall, where the family was treated to piping hot Gautier cheese gratin-the familiar dish gave Dimitri a sense of homey comfort.

In the evening, Dimitri found himself in the cathedral for prayer. 

Diligently following his father’s actions, Dimitri did his best to pray properly with a bowed head and closed eyes.

But, the young girl praying near the saint statues enticed the young prince to sneak peeks during his worship.

The girl praying beneath a statue of Saint Cichol wore a cream colored gown slightly too large for her lithe body. A dark cape adorned with the sacred crest of Seiros wrapped around her petite shoulders, trailing behind her form. Her dark blue hair draped messily over her shoulders, and a modest gold circlet adorned her forehead. The single pure white lily pinned in her dark locks clashed heavily with the rest of her ensemble. Her sloppy posture and the way she impatiently shifted her body weight from side to side belied her extravagant adornments, and Dimitri was slightly amused. 

Before Dimitri could make the choice to approach her, the girl snapped her head up, startling him. Her eyes were narrow and her brow was furrowed, as if suddenly angered. She then scurried out of the cathedral, as if a switch had been flipped inside her.

Dimitri cursed himself for missing his chance to talk to her and quickly returned to the pews beside the king.

Since the girl donned clothing with the crest of Seiros, she surely was part of the church-meaning Dimitri still had hope of finding her. To spend the entire moon at the church surrounded by strict adults sounded too stifling to the young prince, and he was eager to speak to someone his own age. He missed his friends back home in Fhirdiad already, and hoped to make a new one out of the quirky girl from the cathedral. 

And, since the sudden departure of his cherished friend Edelgard, Dimitri had been emotionally vulnerable. Suddenly torn away from the Kingdom one day, with no clues as to where she would be headed next, Dimitri accepted that he would probably never see her again. She was so overbearing, yet he connected with her. They understood each other, and once he broke past her bossy facade, they shared so many good times together, and those memories held a special place in Dimitri’s heart. Perhaps, he hoped to replace that companionship with someone new.

The following church service was led personally by Archbishop Rhea, whose breathtaking beauty exuded holiness worthy of the gods. Her words of the goddess’s grace blurred together to Dimitri as his thoughts were elsewhere, but he could swear she looked directly at him, studying him. As if she was an angel sent to absolve all of sin, her gaze was as comforting as it was frightening. Her lovely voice lured him in, while her unsmiling eyes were a knife held to his throat. When the sermon finally ended, Dimitri was relieved to escape the cathedral.

* * *

King Lambert, Dimitri, and their retainers retired for the evening to a villa on the monastery grounds generously provided by the church. The amenities were spacious, elegant, and comfortable-but Dimitri was no stranger to luxury.

And yet, he found himself awake with insomnia, missing his friends, his own room, and the familiar sounds and smells of an evening in Fhirdiad. 

He gazed forlornly out the bedroom window, feeling respite from the moon’s gentle glow. The hilltop villa gave a breathtaking view of the monastery-he spotted the cathedral, the Officers Academy, the dining hall where he ate earlier in the day, as well as the fishing pond.

Dimitri then noticed a figure at the pond, hunched over the docks. He could barely make out any details, but Dimitri swore he glimpsed wild indigo locks.

He couldn’t fall asleep anyway, so what would be the harm in going to relax by the water?

Grabbing his sheathed dagger and the map of the monastery provided to them during the tour, the little prince tiptoed as quietly as he could out of the house. If anyone had heard him, they didn’t try to stop him.

As soon as Dimitri was safe in the fresh air of the brisk spring night, his youthful legs sprinted recklessly down the hill, nearly losing his footing. He ran straight for the fishing pond, clutching the map at his side lest he get lost. 

But lost he was not, and he slowed only as he turned the corner on the cobblestone path leading up to the docks. 

It _was_ her.

She had shed her formal religious wear she sported earlier in the cathedral in favor of a dingy brown shirt and simple black trousers. She still wore her golden circlet and lily pinned in her hair, completely oblivious to her clashing fashion choices. She fished silently on the wooden dock, tackle box at her side. Unlike in the cathedral, she seemed completely at peace.

“Excuse me,” Dimitri squeaked meekly, trying to make his presence known. 

In an instant, the blue haired girl tossed her fishing pole aside and was on her feet, a dagger drawn and brandished, silent and steady as the still night.

“I-I’m Dimitri! Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd from Faerghus!” squealed the young prince, terrified. 

“Ah,” breathed the girl simply, slipping her knife back to her side. “So you are the prince. I have heard about you.” 

Dimitri gazed at her, unmoving, bewildered at her calmness, admiring her steadfastness in the face of the unknown.

“Yes, that’s correct,” said Dimitri as his heart gradually slowed down. The girl returned to her seat at the dock, recasting her line.

“Is there something unsatisfactory about your lodging?” she said, her back turned to Dimitri who remained standing in place, dumbfounded.

“Uh, not at all! I...I just needed some fresh air.” stammered the young prince. She didn’t answer, focused fully on her fishing once again. Dimitri felt foolish in the presence of someone so self-assured. 

“...May I join you?” he asked boldly, doing his best to project confidence.

“I do not mind. Please, feel free,” she answered stoically, not turning to face the prince. 

Dimitri sat near her at the edge of the small wooden dock, admiring the rippling moonlight across the smooth water’s surface. With or without company, it was an ideal place for relaxation. 

“What is your name?” asked Dimitri. 

“I am Byleth,” she answered simply. 

“Byleth...I like that name,” Dimitri said warmly. He took off his shoes to dangle his feet in the water, ignoring the impoliteness of his actions. He felt at ease in her presence.

She did not seem one for conversation in the slightest, however, and Dimitri struggled for topics to keep their talk flowing.

“Do you live here at the monastery?” he asked curiously. 

“Yes, Garreg Mach is my home. I am to be the next archbishop,” Byleth said simply, assuredly.

“The next archbishop? Wow...that is a high honor.” said Dimitri, taken aback by how unperturbed she seemed in the face of pressure.

“I suppose so.”

Silence followed once again. 

“So, since you are the next archbishop, I am to assume you are Lady Rhea’s child?” asked Dimitri. Byleth shook her head.

“No, that’s not the case. Mother Rhea raised me, but she did not give birth to me. My mother was a priestess of the church. She passed away giving birth to me,” she said matter-of-factly. 

“Oh, my condolences. My apologies if I stirred up any bad memories.”

“Not at all.” Byleth’s face remained devoid of emotion.

“If you are not the archbishop’s progeny, how did you end up in your position, if you do not mind me asking?” Dimitri was puzzled. An institution so grounded in birthright and social order surely wouldn’t hand the duties of the most important figure in the Church of Seiros over to one not born into the role. 

Byleth turned to look into Dimitri’s eyes for the first time, as if searching for something-like she was looking for a signal that her trust would not be misplaced in him. 

“Mother Rhea says I have been chosen by the goddess. That I have the ability to hear her voice, and that as archbishop I will pass her words on to the people of Fódlan. It is a duty that I study and train for daily,” Byleth explained, earning a bit of skepticism from her companion. 

“How does the archbishop know you were chosen?” Dimitri pressed.

“She said I was a stillbirth, and brought back to life by the goddess,” shrugged Byleth, seemingly unaware of the fantastical nature of her words. 

“That’s pretty unbelievable…” said Dimitri. 

“I’m not so sure. Listen,” responded the indigo haired girl, suddenly pulling Dimitri into a light embrace. 

The air left his lungs as his face grew comically red. To be hugged by Byleth, a cold girl who had expressed nothing but indifference thus far in their conversation, was jarringly uncharacteristic. Dimitri was also unaccustomed to such brazen physical contact, as personal space and respect for boundaries was a highly coveted value in the Kingdom.

She was warm, and Dimitri almost wrapped his own arms around her. _Listen,_ she had said. Dimitri opened his ears, and his shock lie not with what he heard, but with what he didn’t hear. 

_No heartbeat._

He pulled away from her, feeling a bit frightened.

“My heart does not beat. Who is to say that Mother Rhea is not telling me the truth? I cannot think of any other explanation that I continue to draw breath,” concluded Byleth. Dimitri didn’t answer, fidgeting his hands in his lap. 

“Are you scared of me?” 

“N-no! No...Please, forgive me, this is just...so much to take in all at once,” Dimitri said, although he was feeling unsure.

Byleth raised an eyebrow. “If you insist,” she said, resuming fishing.

“So...do you hear her?” Dimitri couldn’t help himself.

“What?”

“The goddess. You said Lady Rhea told you that you were the voice of the goddess. Do you hear her?” 

Byleth hesitated, worry in her eyes.

“I do not. Rhea has assured me that I just need time to master the power I’ve been blessed with. But instead of a goddess’s voice, I…” she trailed off. “Pardon me, but I tire of this topic.” 

“Oh, of course! My apologies for making you feel uncomfortable,” complied Dimitri. Though try as he might, his wildly inquisitive mind wanted to know more, more, more about her.

“What about your father? Is he present at the monastery?” he pressed further, enraptured by the sheer mysteriousness of the future leader of the church and her unwavering nonchalance. As their conversation went on longer, Dimitri failed to notice his pruny skin that resulted from keeping his feet in the water for too long. It was if time seemed to slow in her company.

“Oh, my dad is the captain of the knights.” Dimitri was intrigued by how casually she addressed her father. To think the future ruler of the church would be so emotionless and casual both mystified and amused the little prince. Not to mention the way she carried herself devoid of grace or poise, her appearance messy, and her clothing sloppy. She was a direct contrast to Archbishop Rhea, whose melodic voice soothed the hearts of the masses, whose unwavering kindness saved the souls of many, and whose beauty and elegance captivated the people of Fódlan.

“Captain Jeralt, the Blade Breaker, is your father?” Dimitri said, perking up at the mention of Fódlan’s most famed knight.

“Sure, is, kid.” a deep voice cut through behind them, booming and confident.

Dimitri shrieked in alarm, but his cry was cut off as he fell straight into the fishing pond.

“Oh, shit.” the man said, running to the docks to pull him out of the water.

Byleth’s eyes widened as she threw her fishing rod aside, diving into the cold water after the prince without hesitation. 

Byleth and Dimitri surfaced, Dimitri coughing and choking. The culprit who caused the unfolding situation crouched over the water and pulled them back out onto the walkway; the kids shivered as their soaked bodies hit the cool breeze. Dimitri thought perhaps this was divine retribution for the way he startled Byleth earlier.

“I suppose I owe ya an apology, huh?” the dirty blonde haired man said to Dimitri, whose own damp locks clung to his face. “I’m Jeralt, and it looks like you’ve already met my child here.”

“It is wonderful to meet you, sir,” greeted Dimitri with a courteous bow, feeling a bit starstruck in his presence.

“Don’t mention it,” Jeralt said. 

“Father, this is Prince Dimitri of Faerghus. He's staying at the monastery during the Lone Moon,” introduced Byleth.

“Oh, so you’re Prince Dimitri? Well met, your highness. Forgive me for asking, but what are you doing out so late, and without any escorts?” Jeralt asked. 

Dimitri sheepishly fidgeted his hands, and the captain didn’t need to ask further.

“Haha! So the Faerghus prince has a rebellious streak, sneaking out in the dead of night, and to see _my_ daughter no less!” Jeralt guffawed, embarrassing Dimitri even further.

“I-I’m sorry, sir, I didn't mean to give offense…” the prince apologized.

“Eh, I’m more worried about getting my ass chewed out when we take you back up to King Lambert like this. We need to get you two cleaned up, fast,” said Captain Jeralt, turning his attention to the soaked and shivering kids before him.

“I’ll be fine, Dad,” assured Byleth, the wilted lily still clinging to her hair giving her an almost forlorn appearance.

“My attendants can take care of everything for me at the villa,” Dimitri said, not wanting to be an inconvenience.

“Oh, no you don’t. We need to come up with a cover. The Church is trying to make House Blaiddyd’s visit as smooth as possible, and we’ll all be in deep shit with Rhea if their little prince is seen gallivanting around, falling into pools of water in the cold-” 

“I’ll escort him back to the villa. Lying and scheming will only dig us further into trouble. I’m sure King Lambert will be forgiving,” said Byleth, determined.

“Okay, but what about you? I don’t need you catching a cold on me,” Jeralt said, eyebrow raised.

“Trust me, Dad, I’ll be fine,” answered Byleth, sounding on the edge of exasperation. 

“Well, whatever. Don’t get into any more funny business, you hear me?” Jeralt said with a shrug, moving to ruffle his daughter’s wet hair. 

* * *

When they arrived at the door to the villa, the windows were pitch black; there was no evidence that anyone had awoken and noticed Dimitri’s absence. Perhaps he could still sneak in undetected and clean himself up in solitude, avoiding any confrontation altogether.

That plan was thrown to the wolves when Byleth boldly rapped her knuckles on the door. 

No answer.

“That’s a bit strange. Perhaps everyone already left searching for you?” Byleth said, though she didn’t seem to be joking. 

“The door is unlocked…” said Dimitri, turning the handle. 

Inside, King Lambert sat at a desk in the foyer, a sputtering candle barely illuminating his face. The weak flame was drowning in the pooling wax; the ominous glow outlined the frown lines in the king’s face. He turned to look at the children in the doorway, his expression unchanged, his body unmoving.

“Dimitri,” he acknowledged simply. 

“Father…” Dimitri responded, words failing him.

“My deepest apologies for disturbing you at such an inappropriate hour, your majesty. I am Byleth Eisner, successor in training to Archbishop Rhea. I have come to escort Prince Dimitri back to your residence,” declared Byleth with an overwhelming politeness.

“Lady Byleth?” Lambert seemed dumbfounded as he rose from his seat, approaching them.

“Yes, your majesty,” she bowed deeply, her mannerisms in direct contrast to her casual attire drenched with pond water. 

“I did not realize you were my son’s age,” said King Lambert, who then turned his gaze to Dimitri. 

“Please, do not allow me to intrude any longer. I shall take my leave now. Let us know if there is anything we can do for you,” said Byleth. The door shut with a gentle thud that echoed throughout the house, and Dimitri felt nervous with Byleth no longer at his side.

“Please, explain yourself,” commanded Lambert, calm yet authoritative. 

“I could not sleep, so I took the map of the monastery and went to the pond. I just wanted to sit for awhile, to clear my mind. And um...I had a bit of an accident, and slipped into the pond. Lady Byleth rescued me,” Dimitri explained with honesty. 

“Dimitri, if you need to leave the villa, you must alert an attendant so that they may escort you,” his father scolded.

“Yes, sir,” responded Dimitri obediently.

“Please remember, you are seen by all here as the future ruler of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. I expect you to carry yourself as such,” said Lambert sternly.

“Yes, Father. I understand.” 

“Now, up to bed with you. An attendant will be up shortly to help clean you up.” said King Lambert, and with no other words he quietly retreated to bed as Dimitri headed up the stairs. 

Sleep evaded him as he tossed and turned in bed, replaying the night’s events over and over in his head. There was something so captivating about Byleth. She exemplified everything Dimitri thought himself to fall short of. She was calm, confident, humble, and dutiful. The prince already had a great deal of admiration for her, and made it a new goal to seek her out during his time at the monastery and spend as much time with her as he could before he was whisked away back home.

* * *

Prince Dimitri awoke the next morning with an uncomfortably stuffy nose-the only evidence that the events transpiring the night before had not been a dream. Although his schedule for the day was full of strictly planned lectures, prayer, and socialization, he wondered if he would see Byleth at all again. 

The day began with basic theology instruction led by a stern green-haired man called Seteth. He recited the creation story of the goddess and reviewed the Five Eternal Commandments.

_Dare not doubt or deny the existence of the goddess._

_Dare not speak the goddess’s name in vain._

_Dare not disrespect your father, mother, or any who serve the goddess._

_Dare not abuse the power gifted to you by the goddess._

_Dare not kill, harm, or steal, unless such acts are committed by the will of the goddess_

The last commandment rang in Dimitri’s ears. He remembered words from his father, combat instructors, and Lord Rodrigue. The honor and responsibility of the knights and nobility of Faerghus lies in respecting the sanctity of life, but also in the willingness to end lives without hesitation for the good of the Kingdom-they often preached such platitudes. The notion frightened Dimitri, but it seemed even the goddess herself shared the same values.

The prayers and meetings Dimitri attended with his father and attendants were incredibly boring, and the day seemed to drag on. In the cathedral, he found Rhea’s eyes on him again. Her smile that didn’t reach her eyes made Dimitri feel as though the eyes of the goddess herself were evaluating him.

* * *

Slipping away for a spell before supper, Dimitri wandered to the training grounds, curious to scope out the knights’ sparring. To his surprise, Byleth was the area’s only inhabitant. She practiced swordplay alone with a training blade, wrapped up in her own world.

“Lady Byleth!” Dimitri jogged up to her, ecstatic to see her again.

“Ah, Prince Dimitri. Hello,” greeted Byleth, dropping her stance.

“I must say that I am surprised to see you here. I did not know it was within the realm of required duties for an archbishop to learn to battle!” Dimitri commented.

“It is indeed. I, just like the knights, must be prepared to die and to kill for the monastery,” Byleth responded absentmindedly. Her words were intimidating. 

“I-I see...While I have some free time, would you mind showing me some of your tactics? I’d love to see how your style compares to what I have learned back home in Faerghus,” asked Dimitri. 

“You would like to spar?” asked Byleth, and the prince nodded. Byleth shrugged, and wordlessly fetched him a training sword.

She lunged forward once Dimitri grasped the blade and readied his stance, and he already found himself struggling to hold his own against her. Her strikes were quick and without hesitation, just like how she brandished her knife the night before when Dimitri first approached her at the fishing pond. He was barely able to avoid her attacks. Dimitri tumbled over his feet, rolling over in a pathetic attempt at a parry. But Byleth was relentless, landing a hit on his left arm as he failed to dodge in time. The slightly splintered wood of the training sword scraped his skin; he felt the wound sting as it met the cool air. But Byleth didn’t let up.

Her fighting style was so much different than anyone he had faced in Faerghus. Her wild abandon was skilled yet animalistic-such an approach to combat would be unacceptable and uncouth within the Knights of Faerghus. 

Dimitri’s feeble attempts to secure a blow on Byleth were futile against her flurry of attacks, and he grew fatigued. He looked into her eyes for a fraction of a second: it was as though her furious, widened eyes belonged to someone else.

With a jab to his side with a blunt edge of her weapon, she wrestled Dimitri to the ground. Her blue locks clung to her forehead, drenched with sweat. Byleth straddled Dimitri, disarming and overpowering him.

“I yield!” he cried, throwing his hands up in defeat.

She did not relent.

She tossed her own blade to the side haphazardly, and time seemed to slow as she raised her fist over her head. The young prince shut his eyes tightly and braced for the impact, but it never came.

Dimitri opened his eyes to Captain Jeralt pulling his daughter off Dimitri; the prince didn’t notice when he had arrived. The parent and child collapsed to the ground; Jeralt clutched her tightly, whispering to her.

Dimitri was scared, and wanted to run away. But his father’s words echoed in his head-he must display the chivalry and confidence expected of the future King of Faerghus. 

“Sir Jeralt, what’s wrong? What can I do to help?” asked Dimitri with urgency. 

“Everything’s alright now, kid,” said Jeralt, not looking away from Byleth, who had passed out. 

“I apologize for this, your highness. Please don’t go running your mouth and spreading rumors about my kid,” the knight added, softly stroking Byleth’s hair. 

“Sir, I-I would never. You have my word. But, I have to ask…” Dimitri trailed off.

“Yeah. You’re wondering what the hell just happened, huh?” 

Dimitri nodded, sitting next to Jeralt and the still unconscious Byleth. 

“It’s really not my business to be telling. But, Byleth has power within her that she doesn’t quite know how to control just yet. Anything more, I think you should hear from her,” Jeralt explained

Byleth then stirred from her sleep, groaning loudly as if in pain, her voice hoarse and weak. 

“Easy there, kid. How ya feeling?” 

“I’ll be fine,” Byleth croaked. She looked from her father and up to Dimitri, who did his best to give a reassuring smile. Realization hit her and she looked away, ashamed.

“I’m sorry, Prince Dimitri. I went too far,” she apologized. Her face was hardened and expressionless, but Dimitri saw her eyes fill with guilt. 

“It is alright, Lady Byleth. I know it was not your intent to hurt me,” responded the prince, feeling sorry for the young archbishop-to-be.

“I’m gonna get my kid on home. You’d better do the same, Prince Dimitri,” said Jeralt, standing up while still holding Byleth.

“Dad, I can walk,” Byleth protested to no avail. 

“Shall I see you around the monastery, then?” Dimitri asked Byleth hopefully as they parted ways. 

“You...would want to see me again?” asked Byleth incredulously.

“Of course.”

“Even after…”

“I should like to think I wouldn’t be the type to ever hold a grudge,” Dimitri answered, grinning.

“Okay. Until we meet again, Prince Dimitri” said Byleth simply as she and her father walked away into the night. Dimitri thought he saw a hint of a smile on her face for a moment, but decided it must be his imagination.

* * *

Days passed without incidence as Dimitri fell into a routine of lecture, prayer, meetings, and occasional combat instruction. For a week, Dimitri had ignored what transpired on that day at the training grounds, despite the mountain of questions he had surrounding it.

The eighth of the Lone Moon- on this insignificant day in the middle of the week, Dimitri decided to venture to the library to study scripture; he felt he was falling behind in Seteth’s theology instruction and dreaded disappointing or, even worse, humiliating himself when it came time to test his knowledge. He had already disappointed his father once already during their visit, and he wanted to make up for it by applying himself.

He was delighted to find Byleth there, sitting alone amongst various tomes.

“Lady Byleth! We meet again!” Dimitri said as he approached her table. 

“Hello, Prince Dimitri,” she greeted.

“May I sit with you?” Dimitri asked, and Byleth nodded.

“What brings you here? Was there anything you needed help finding?” 

“Ah, I just came to do some extra studying. I want to make sure I’ve got a good grasp on the Book of Seiros, lest I disappoint Lord Seteth!” explained Dimitri, although he made no effort to seek out the books he needed. 

“Well, you’re in luck. I was just working on rereading scripture. Here.” Byleth pushed a small stack of books toward Dimitri, who would rather continue to talk to Byleth than read.

“If you’d like, I can answer any questions you might have in regards to the material” offered Byleth. 

“I’d greatly appreciate it! Thank you!” 

The pair sat at the table together, each silently reading on their own. Dimitri admired Byleth’s elegant face, youthful yet mature. He tried not to let himself get distracted from his studies as he longed to talk to her, but such a feat was easier said than done.

“So, when it says here that ‘darkness descended from the north...a darkness that devoured the earth, desecrated the heavens, and threw the world and its inhabitants into a state of chaos’...I am a bit confused as to what this darkness was,” Dimitri asked after some silence, bewildered. The wording was vague, and he didn’t know what to make of it. 

“I had wondered about that myself, for a time,” Byleth responded. “When I asked Mother Rhea the same thing, she didn’t really have an answer for me. She just sort of...rambled on, preaching about how everything has a reverse. There was an evil darkness matching the intensity of the goddess’s holiness,” Byleth said enigmatically, offering no clarification to Dimitri’s question.

“That’s…intriguing…” Dimitri trailed off.

“Prince Dimitri...about that night…

“Oh, don’t give it a second thought! All is forgiven,” Dimitri said.

“I know, and I thank you for that. It...does not happen often, but at times something overtakes me. My body, it is not my own. And there’s a voice…” she went quiet. 

“It must be hard to talk about this. Thank you for trusting me with something so important,” said Dimitri. “It must be an immense amount of pressure.”

“It is what it is,” Byleth responded.

“I actually know how it feels, to some extent. I have a crest, and it can be really difficult to control sometimes,” shared Dimitri.

“The Crest of Blaiddyd, yes?” 

“Yes. My strength can be hard to control. I know the gravity of my situation pales in comparison to yours.”

“Not at all. I appreciate it,” she said softly.

Byleth looked up at him.

“You know, Prince Dimitri...you’re quite admirable,” she complimented. 

“H-how so?” Dimitri stammered, his face going red from the sudden praise.

“You are so eager to fulfill your duties. Instead of questioning them, you embrace them. I like that about you,” she answered simply. 

“But you are much the same! You are destined to become one of the most powerful leaders in Fódlan, and it seems to me that you take to your duties with the utmost diligence!” Dimitri said glowingly. 

“That’s kind of you. But I lack your passion. And so that’s why I admire you,” said Byleth, gracing him with a slight smile.

“That’s so kind of you to say. I’m honored,” Dimitri was overjoyed.

“Say, Prince Dimitri...would you be interested in meeting at the training grounds tonight? Our session was...cut short previously. Father will be able to give you a couple pointers as well,” Byleth proposed boldly.

“Absolutely! I’d be delighted to! Dimitri accepted enthusiastically.

“Wonderful. Shall we meet after nightfall in the grounds?” Byleth asked. 

“I will be there, I assure you,” Dimitri said. 

The two bid each other farewell soon after, Dimitri’s free time having run out. His mood was heightened for the rest of the day, looking forward to his nighttime meeting with Byleth.

* * *

That evening, Dimitri readied himself to sneak to the training grounds. He tiptoed downstairs to fetch a water canteen, creeping in the pitch blackness of the living area.

“Where are you venturing off to, young man?” boomed a voice unexpectedly from the darkness.

Dimitri’s breath hitched and his entire body froze in fear. He had hoped that, should he get caught creeping around in the night, it would be a servant to discover him-not his own father.

“I-I just needed some water, father,” Dimitri squeaked as his father walked to him, barely visible in the still-dark expanse of the foyer. Lambert struck a match and lit a lamp, illuminating them both.

“You are fully dressed, Dimitri.” said King Lambert, motioning to Dimitri fully clad, a knapsack over his shoulders.

Dimitri didn’t respond, fearful and ashamed.

“Dimitri. You are to answer me when I speak to you,” Lambert commanded harshly.

“I was sneaking out,” the young prince admitted, using all his conscious effort to restrain his tears.

“At least you have the decency to bear the truth,” said the King. “Where?” 

“To the training grounds, with Lady Byleth.”

“Lady Byleth? Explain yourself.” Dimitri could hear anger quickly seeping into his father’s voice.

“She offered to spar. She and Captain Jeralt were going to teach me some techniques-”

“We have already been here once before. To sneak out again in the dead of night, directly disobeying me, to meet with the archbishop’s successor and distract her from her holy duties...I expected better from you, Dimitri,” his father’s words were like a knife to the gut.

He was ashamed, angry, and afraid-his emotions fought for dominance in his conflicted mind. It was akin to a raging thunderstorm; he was trying to yell over the booming crashes of lightning for his voice to be heard.

“You’re...awful!” Dimitri’s usually timid voice yelled back, surely awakening every soul in the villa. “Why can’t you let me have this one thing!?”

“You shall not speak to me so brazenly, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd!” Dimitri flinched at his father’s roaring yell. “Return to your quarters. _Now_. You can expect a much more watchful eye for the rest of our stay here. I cannot express my disappointment in you,” King Lambert commanded, arms crossed. Dimitri thought he spotted a hint of guilt or compassion in his eyes, but he turned around to obey his father’s orders before he could decide whether he imagined it or not.

In his bed, Dimitri didn’t bother to change out of his clothes as he stifled his sobs into the pillow. The frustration and hurt from his feelings being silenced escaped him in the form of tears streaming down his face.

* * *

“He’s late,” Byleth complained, gazing up at the moon. 

“It wouldn’t kill ya to have some patience, kid,” Jeralt said, absentmindedly polishing his blade. “Maybe he chickened out of sneaking out again.” 

It was possible, Byleth figured. 

**Pfft. He got tired of you.**

A grating cackle filled Byleth’s head. She tried not to acknowledge the voice’s invasive mockery.

**This is tiresome. You try so hard, but it’s a waste of both of our time. Just let me handle everything.**

Byleth sat upon the cool floor to ground herself. She slipped into a silent meditation, trying to sort through which thoughts belonged to her, and which did not-but it was like wading through the dirtiest, murkiest lake, feeling around for a single pin amidst an endless pool of grime and muck.

The voice intruded her thoughts, and its figure invaded her dreams. A demon masquerading as a charming young girl adorned with a golden circlet and chestplate, and an intricately cut indigo dress. Her wild green hair reflected her chaotic demeanor. The tulpa had no body of her own, but she felt all too real to Byleth.

Byleth’s hands hovered above her own neck, her body no longer her own. Wrestling for control over herself, she countered using dark magic so frowned upon by those in the church.

Her tormentor was subdued, if only temporarily.

Byleth opened her eyes to see her father’s worried face before her; she had difficulty breathing, and felt a deep ache in the side of her abdomen. A cloudy, purple mark was forming on her skin-evident of a wound from miasma. 

“I’m here, Byleth,” reassured Jeralt as Byleth healed herself with white magic. 

“Let’s just head home,” said Byleth. “Prince Dimitri isn’t coming.” 

* * *

Byleth felt no compulsion to track down the Faerghus prince in his last week of his stay at Garreg Mach, choosing instead to bury her disappointment through routine. As the voice of the goddess and the future archbisohp, her days were strictly scheduled by Lady Rhea herself. Prayer, meditation, private schooling, reason and faith instruction were all part of her usual activities. Some members of the church suggested the schedule was too rigorous for a fourteen year old, but Byleth faced what was expected of her with unwavering nonchalance. Jeralt was not particularly keen on it either, but he was not in a position to protest.

There were a couple of days where the two met eyes in passing-Byleth did her best not to acknowledge him, and, surrounded by his servants’ watchful eyes, he seemed to do the same. It was for the best that they not be distracted by each other any longer.

* * *

When the moon rose in the evening, Byleth felt heavy as she dragged herself not to the training grounds or the fishing pond with her father, but to the Holy Tomb. Her stomach churned in dread of what awaited her-she never grew accustomed to this weekly obligation.

Like always, Rhea waited by the throne, wearing a simple white dress. Byleth wordlessly sat upon the throne, already feeling anxious as Rhea clasped chains around her wrists and ankles. 

“Before we begin, dear child, I wanted to remind you of something,” rhea spoke unexpectedly, earning a raised eyebrow from Byleth. 

“Yes, Mother Rhea?” she addressed respectfully.

“Unacceptable behavior will not be tolerated for someone in your position. I do not recall giving you permission to fraternize with the prince of Faerghus,” Rhea said, her voice quiet but firm.

“Mother Rhea, I-” Byleth tried to explain. 

“Ah-ah, no need for excuses. No punishment will come from me, child. Just remember that everything I do is in your best interest. So that you may become the very will of the goddess herself, to be the leader that I cannot. If you continue to shirk your duties, you will never be able to master your power, and the sickness that plagues your mind will remain. You will never be able to hear the goddess’s sweet voice,” Rhea rambled, stroking Byleth’s cheek.

“Now, let’s begin.” 

Byleth was blindfolded, as Rhea softly pat her hair. Byleth did her best to calm her breathing, steadying herself for what was to come. Rhea sang a lullaby. In any other setting, the song would have been soothing, but to Byleth, her song was haunting.

“In time’s flow, see the glow, of flames ever burning bright,” Rhea’s voice was a siren’s call, luring Byleth to the depths.

It wasn’t long until the archbishop’s voice faded away, and the image of her eternal tormentor came into view.

Her appearance was that of a child, but her menacing stride in the dark glow of nothingness toward Byleth was frightening, looming.

**We meet again, it seems.** Her voice had an almost playful edge.

“So it seems,” Byleth tried to put on a flippant front.

With each step forward the green haired girl took, Byleth searched for more ways to ground herself. The cool marble of the throne she sat upon, the now distant melody of Rhea’s song, the sting in the side of her abdomen from her earlier miasma wound-they all reminded her to focus on reality.

**Have you been enjoying your time with your new friend?** Her fingers ghosted over Byleth’s face. 

“I suppose I did. It was short lived.” 

**A rhetorical question, you fool. I know everything you think and feel.** She said with a harsh laugh.

“Then why did you ask me the question?” 

An open-palmed smack across her cheek. Byleth felt the sting bloom across her cheek.

**I do not want to deal with your sass anymore. You are the only thing lying between me and my destiny. And the more you resist me, the longer it will take for us to reach our fullest potential.** The demon snarled at her.

“But I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong. How does me befriending someone hurt you? You get angry no matter what I do” Byleth asked calmly. 

**Spending your time with them takes you away from me. You need to focus on us. We’ll never become one if you don’t focus on us. Only us.** The girl’s hands wrapped around her neck, squeezing hard.

As the demon’s fingers pressed against her throat harder and it became harder to breathe, she clawed wildly at the arms of the stone throne she sat on. She did not want to become one with something so menacing, so unfeeling.

Not real. This is not reality. She is not real. 

Byleth’s hands found her own legs, and she sank her nails into the skin, scratching and digging at her flesh to bring herself back from the waking nightmare.

“Byleth!” Rhea’s voice called out to her as she removed the blindfold. She gasped for air, a cold sweat covering her body.

“Anything different today?” the woman asked. Byleth shook her head.

“Nothing new, Mother Rhea.” 

“What did you see?” she asked desperately, pressing Byleth further.

“I saw darkness. But I heard, a...a chant, all around me. And then shadows, reaching out their hands to hurt me. There was not much else than that,” Byleth lied, just as she had been coached by Jeralt to do so many times before.

“...Very well. That will be enough for today. You may head on up to bed, dear child,” The archbishop instructed as if nothing had happened.

* * *

The thirtieth day of the Lone Moon arrived, the monastery grounds filling with new Officers Academy students for the new year. Prince Dimitri lamented his last day at Garreg Mach, his heart feeling heavy despite the beautiful, cheerful aura of the gorgeous day.

Before the Blaiddyds boarded their carriage to return to Faerghus, Dimitri sprinted to the cathedral to say farewell.

Byleth sat silently at one of the pews, staring at nothing when Dimitri arrived.

“Hello Lady Byleth,” Dimitri greeted, but the girl didn’t respond.

“I know we left off on a sour note. I came to apologize, and to bid you farewell,” said the young prince solemnly. “I want you to know that it was not my intention to stand you up at the training grounds. I was caught trying to sneak out, and my father forbid me from leaving.”

“I understand. It cannot be helped,” Byleth said, looking into his eyes understandingly. “I was not avoiding you because I was angry with you. I simply did not want to be a distraction or a nuisance to you.”

“Not at all!” Dimitri sat next to her on the pew. “You’ve been such a wonderful friend to me. I only regret that we did not spend more time together,” Dimitri said sadly.

“Perhaps you shall find yourself at the monastery again?” Byleth suggested, hopeful.

“Perhaps I will. I refuse to believe this is goodbye forever,” he said.

He timidly pulled Byleth in for an embrace. He was surprised but relieved when she returned the hug.

“I’m sure your carriage will be leaving soon,” Byleth said as they pulled away. 

“You’re right. I must be going,” Dimitri felt an ache in his heart.

“Farewell Prince Dimitri. Until we meet again,” said Byleth with a genuine smile.

“Farewell, Lady Byleth.”

As Dimitri sat wordlessly next to his father, watching sadly as Garreg Mach Monastery gradually faded from view, Dimitri then vowed to return again one day as an Officers Academy, that he may chase those fleetingly carefree days once more.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  



	2. The Goddess's Scorn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry for taking so long to update-life and stuff unu. I've upped the rating due to violence and eventual smut, just to be safe. BUT NO SMUT YET.  
> Apologies for any minor errors or inaccuracies. I will definitely try to update more frequently from now on!! 
> 
> TW for the last part of the chapter - violence and blood and stuff. Please take care of yourself.

She had been there for as long as Byleth could remember.

From her earliest memories, she recalled her ever-present voice and silhouette defined by her signature wild green locks. In her childhood years, Byleth remembered the kind words and playful quips that fell from the girl’s lips. For a time, Byleth considered her a friend, looking to her for comfort, fun, and guidance. Both in her dreams and while she was awake, Byleth often heard the voice intrude her thoughts. Back when the girl’s words were lighthearted and amicable, Byleth did not mind the lack of privacy.

But one day, as Byleth visited her in a dream, she felt an uneasiness as she approached the throne. The girl, who hadn’t a single memory and could not even recall her own name, seemed to transform overnight. Displaying a once goofy, playful, carefree demeanor, she sat upon the holy throne, suddenly self-assured and serious.

 **I have had a revelation, child.**

Byleth remembered her foreboding voice that day.

“A revelation?” the dark blue haired girl did not know how else to respond.

**Indeed. And you’re going to be pivotal in helping me to realize it.**

“But how? You’re being so...weird,” Byleth mumbled, the discomfort in the pit of her stomach growing.

A dark chuckle.

**All will be revealed in due time. Patience shall be a virtue-for both of us.**

When the girl stalked toward her, Byleth wanted to back away, but felt her feet frozen in place, a lump forming in her throat as Sothis stroked her face, her sharp fingernails grazing the delicate skin.

 **I am Sothis, and the future is mine…**

Her whisper was so soft, Byleth wondered if she had only heard it in her thoughts. 

***

Several years had passed since that day, and the girl’s existence had become an intrusive nightmare. Over time, the phantasmal presence escalated from sinister and foreboding to erratic and threatening, as she constantly wrestled for control over Byleth’s mind and body. At first, Byleth thought she might have been sick, or cursed. She remembered Rhea once saying that there are many who would oppose the church. Could Sothis have been the ghost of some ancient enemy of Seiros? She told Jeralt first, whose face contorted with worry and a hint of anger.

“Tell me everything,” her father had said.

And so she did. About the presence in her dreams and thoughts, about its sudden hostility, describing the environment and the girl’s appearance in detail. Jeralt was silent for a long while.

“Byleth. I need you to promise me something. Okay, kid?” he said, and Byleth nodded.

“Don’t tell a single word of this to Rhea. Even if she asks. No matter how much she might pester you. Do you understand?” his voice was quiet and serious. 

“I understand, Dad.”

“We’ll get to the bottom of this sooner or later. I’ll do whatever it takes,” Jeralt promised quietly, his thoughts seemingly elsewhere.

And so Byleth kept her promise, never cracking under the pressure from the archbishop, using vague answers and half-truths whenever she pried. Eagerly awaiting for the day Byleth would hear the voice of the goddess, Rhea pressured her for answers.

“My mind is still cloudy.” 

“Just when I believe I start to sense something, it slips through my fingers.”

“Maybe I just need a bit more time to grasp my power.” 

Her myriad of excuses were sufficient for a time. But Rhea’s calming voice and eloquent words had a knack for coaxing what she wanted out of people. 

“You’re such a sweet child. I should know; I’ve helped raise you since your birth,” Rhea had said one day. Byleth was age eleven. 

“Thank you, Mother Rhea,” said Byleth.

“You know, your mother was very special to me. Like a sister, even,” the archbishop rested her hand upon Byleth’s. “She was very frail, and gave her own life to give birth to you. You’ve heard the story before, though, I know.” 

“I have,” Byleth said shortly.

“Her last wish was for you to lead a happy, fulfilling life. And she asked me, as she breathed her last, to ensure that.” Rhea’s words lured her in, Byleth drawn to the mention of the mother she never had the privilege of knowing. “I can tell you are hiding something from me, my child. Something that’s troubling your soul. Please, Byleth. Know that you can trust me.” Rhea comfortingly stroked the top of her hand.

“Well…” Byleth started, faltering, doing her best to stay true to her father’s instruction. “I…”

“It’s okay, young one,” said Rhea. 

“I think the reason I can’t hear the goddess is because I have...something...in my head,” Byleth couldn’t stop the words flowing from her mouth, like a pot boiling over.

“Something in your head? What do you mean?” asked Rhea, intrigued. 

“Like...voices, and hands, reaching out to me, trying to hurt me, or make me hurt myself.” The archbishop’s expression was impossible to read.

Rhea had assured Byleth that she would be there to guide Byleth through, to support her in trying to expel the demons in her mind. But Rhea’s fanaticism in rearing Byleth as a messiah only intensified after her confession, and the archbishop tossed her into a rigorous world of training and education.

Every so often, Rhea, in a desperate attempt to draw out the voice of the goddess, took the young Byleth into the Holy Tomb to administer a variety of experiments. Byleth was bound, gagged, and flogged upon the throne in the tomb as Rhea frantically insisted that it was surely the only place pure enough to foster awakening.

Over time, after numerous nights spent chained to the throne, having her senses deprived, and spending hours alone with the phantom that resided in her mind, Byleth developed an astute sense of self-sufficiency. 

She was betrayed by Rhea, who she considered somewhat of a mother figure up to that day. Using Byleth’s curiosity and longing for her birth mother to gain the information she wanted, Rhea had no qualms with subjecting her to pain or torture. The only other person she had was her father, who couldn’t stand up to Rhea or the church, and who was deliberately kept in the dark. He was a constant pillar of support for Byleth, but was powerless to change her situation.

And so, she trudged on through life, staying diligent in her spiritual growth, praying that her dedication would spark change.

Although their time was short, meeting Prince Dimitri at the monastery was one of the greatest joys she had experienced. Before befriending him, she hadn’t realized how dull her life was. He helped her realize how grossly complacent she had become in accepting the monotony and abuse of her everyday life. She had a new purpose to work hard for-to see him again. It felt freeing to allow herself to experience emotion again, even though Sothis tormented her all the more intensely for it.

* * *

As the Blue Sea Moon of Imperial Year 1175 approached, Byleth saw her workload increase significantly. The Goddess’s Rite of Rebirth, one of the church’s most important events, demanded constant presence and attention from the archbishop-to-be. Normally stoic in the face of pressure, Byleth was slowly overwhelmed by the stress. Preparation for the event consisted mainly of setting hidden traps in the Holy Mausoleum, should any visitors attempt to defile any part of it. The traps pushed her magical abilities to the limit, chanting spells on the floor tiles and erecting golems to protect the sacred grounds.

The work was far from finished, but Byleth figured she would treat herself to a short break. She set aside her manuscripts of prepared prayers and retrieved a blank sheet of papyrus, deciding to clear her mind through journaling. Yet no words flowed onto the paper, as her mind was too stimulated and cloudy to connect with her feelings.

She then thought of Dimitri, with whom she had not contact with since his departure from the monastery months before, and she longed to talk to her friend once more. What was he doing on a day to day basis? Would he come back to the monastery soon? Did he think of her as well?

“Perhaps I should write to him,” she thought. She knew Rhea would never approve, especially recalling how vehement she became whenever Byleth spent time with Dimitri during the Lone Moon. But sneakiness and defiance had become a recent habit of hers, so she wrote anyway.

“Dear Dimitri,

Quite some time has passed since our farewell at the end of last year. I hope the moons have treated you well.

I miss the short time we spent together and have found myself wondering if you feel the same. I have doubts as to whether this letter will even reach you, but if it does, tell me-will you be returning to Garreg Mach sometime soon? I believe a reunion would do me well, especially with the amount of stress I’ve dealt with of late. I look forward to hearing back from you, should the goddess’s grace bless me so.

Yours,

Byleth Eisner.”

She sealed the letter in an elegant, plain envelope, imprinting the official crest of Seiros with a wax seal. She haphazardly grabbed her knapsack and a heavy, brown cloak, sneaking out of her quarters toward the marketplace. She had a faint idea of how to get the letter to Dimitri, and hoped to get there before she could be detected by Rhea or any of the monastery’s attendants.

Reaching the outskirts to the gate, with her hood still pulled up, she spotted her target-the jovial gatekeeper whose post resided eternally by the outer gate. Byleth felt guilty when she couldn’t recall his name, but hoped the reward she carried in her bag would make up for her rudeness.

“Excuse me,” she said, approaching him. 

“Greetings, young one! How can I help you? Are you lost?” he said energetically.

“Shh. Not so loud,” warned Byleth, hyper-aware of the people surrounding them. “I was wondering if you could do a small favor for me.”

“Well, that depends on what you need, my friend!” said the guard, quieter, his smile infectious. Byleth presented the letter. 

“Would you be able to make sure this gets to House Blaiddyd, in Fhirdiad?” she asked.

“To the royal family? I dunno about that one. It’d be pretty hard to get them to accept just any ol’ thing…” the guard hesitated to accept. 

“What about if I throw this in?” said Byleth, presenting a sizeable coin pouch and the official seal of the Church of Seiros. He looked into her eyes for the first time since their encounter, and things visibly clicked in his eyes. Recognizing her, he took the money and the letter. 

“I’ll see what I can do, little buddy,” he said with a wink. 

“I would be grateful for it. Thank you,” said Byleth quickly, scurrying off lest someone more untrustworthy recognize her. 

When she returned to her room, she was still recovering from the nervous shortness of breath from doing something so risky. Content knowing that no one had seen her, she resumed her work, re-absorbing herself into a dutiful mindset. 

* * *

The day of the Rite of Rebirth arrived, and Byleth felt overwhelmed with anxiousness and dread. She feared the presence of spectators at the monastery, and what fate might befall them should she fail to keep Sothis under control. Rhea had instructed her to meet her at the Tomb before the ceremony for last minute preparations.

“You nervous?” Jeralt asked as he helped style her hair for the ritual.

“A little bit,” Byleth answered absentmindedly. 

“Me too. But don’t worry-I won’t leave your side,” her father said.

“That doesn’t really comfort me,” said Byleth.

“What? Why not?” 

“If anything bad _did_ happen, I’d want you to get away from me. Not try to stop me, or approach me,” Byleth explained.

 **How very noble of you!** Sothis chided sarcastically.

“No can do on that one, kid. You’re stuck with me,” Jeralt joked, carefully braiding a crown of white lilies atop her head. Byleth let out an exasperated sigh.

“In all seriousness...just like all these other whacked out rituals the church forces you into, it’ll be tough. But you’ll get through it. I know you’ve got both the strength and willpower. Okay?” the father said, heartfelt, as he put the finishing touches on his daughter’s hair.

“Okay. Thank you,” Byleth said, turning away from herself in the mirror.

 **Today should be fun, huh?** Byleth felt chillingly threatened by her words.

Dressed in a long white gown, a pink stripe running down the middle, with brown sandals and her simple white crown of lilies, Byleth hesitantly made her way to the Holy Tomb.

 **Maybe she’ll cut off one of your limbs today!** Sothis laughed, and Byleth felt a sharp twitch of pain in her arm.

“Ah. Byleth. Welcome, child,” greeted Rhea, clad in her full archbishop regalia, her voice sweet as honey. She noticed another figure crouched over as she approached, her footsteps echoing hollowly in the vast expanse of the tomb.

“Mother Rhea? Who…” Byleth trailed off as she recognized the man the archbishop had in tow. He definitely looked different without his suit of soldier’s armor, but the young girl knew the man to be the gatekeeper she entrusted her letter to Dimitri with earlier in the month. She remained silent, fearful of what might come next. 

“Do you recognize this man, my dear?” asked the archbishop.

Byleth looked down at him, gagged with a white cloth, his wrists bound together. She knew Rhea was capable of anything, and she had to play her cards right. 

“He is employed at the monastery, no?” Byleth said, figuratively embarking on her trip across Rhea’s treacherous tightrope.

“Quite. Do you know anything more about him?” asked the archbishop, her tone and expression difficult to read.

“I can’t say that I know much else about him, Mother Rhea.” It wasn’t a lie. Silence.

“Byleth. It seems not to matter how often I remind you that nothing at Garreg Mach escapes my eye. You always seem to sneak around, feeling confident in your ability to slither by undetected,” said Rhea, and Byleth’s apprehensiveness skyrocketed. 

“Why must you speak so cryptically, Mother Rhea? What are you talking about?” said Byleth, overly careful not to dig herself a grave even further.

“I’d watch that sarcastic tongue of yours, child. You’ve been spending too much time around your father,” Rhea spat venomously.

“Yes, Mother Rhea.” Byleth hoped her compliance would soften the archbishop’s anger.

“Back to the matter at hand. Any deed that obscures the duties of you as my successor is akin to hindering the goddess herself. For someone of the church to so blatantly meddle with the plans of the goddess is a sin that must be punished,” said Rhea. 

“Mother Rhea, please, don’t be rash. I shall gladly accept the punishment as atonement,” said Byleth, trying her best to handle her rising panic.

“I couldn’t possibly, my child. Not you,” the archbishop responded wistfully, pulling a knife from her robes. 

“Wait-”

“Ah-ah. 

**Hm-hm. What will she do? Will she slit his throat, quick and easy? Or maybe she’ll stab him in the chest and let him bleed out? She might gouge out his eyes first though. That could be interesting. And it’s all because of** **_you_ ** **. Because you were so selfish and foolish. I honestly have to laugh!** Byleth felt nauseated as she became unable to distinguish Sothis’s voice from her own thoughts.

She felt a rising darkness as she dared to look down into the gatekeeper’s eyes, full of fear, regret, and loathing. Directed at her. The look of betrayal and hate in his eyes was reserved completely for her. _“How could you?”_ his eyes seemed to scream at her. Byleth felt stinging tears gather in her eyes. She tried to look away from his brutal gaze, but Sothis’s hands cruelly held her skull in place. 

**Look at him, Byleth. There’s consequences for everything. For everything you hope to gain in this world, there’s another life you must use as a tool to achieve it. Don’t turn away now**. Byleth clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. The helplessness was overwhelming, her absence of power unacceptable. 

“Mother Rhea, stop,” she croaked.

“Hush, child.” Rhea kneeled to the floor and brought the knife to his throat. 

Like the last thread of a rope snapping, Byleth lost control of her body and hurled a Mire spell at the archbishop, who yelped in pain and dropped the knife. Byleth immediately recovered the blade from the floor, and cut the ropes and gag that bound the young gatekeeper. She was an observer of the situation, looking down on her own body moving as if instructed by someone or something else. 

“Run, and do not return. Speak not of what has happened here. I shall take care of everything,” Byleth instructed urgently, not recognizing the voice escaping from her lips. The terrified guard stared up at her, bewildered, before scurrying away toward the exit. 

As she clutched her wrist, still reeling from the impact of Byleth’s spell, Rhea turned around and opened her mouth as if to say something, her expression scrunched and furious. But when she faced the young archbishop-to-be, the green haired woman’s face softened and her eyebrows furrowed, much like the freed gatekeeper moments before. 

“Rhea. Cease this violence.” Byleth voiced a command that was not her own; the words seemed not to come from Sothis, either. 

“Mother...you’re here…” Rhea said softly, almost inaudible as she gazed up at her on her knees. 

_Mother…?_

Byleth’s vision turned blurry and the world around her started to spin. Before she knew it, she hit the floor of the Holy Tomb with a resounding thud.

_Byleth saw a woman with her back turned, far off in the distance in a lush meadow. Her dark green hair cascaded down her back, and at first she thought the figure belonged to Rhea. Hesitantly, Byleth approached the woman dressed in a long frock, looking out across the empty horizon._

_“Hello?” Byleth called out, her voice echoing._

_When the woman turned around, Byleth halted in her tracks. Staring back at her was the face of Sothis, wearing a body that didn’t belong to her. Speechless, she ran in the other direction as the woman with Sothis’s face slowly walked toward her. Although she was putting distance between them, Byleth could hear the woman’s voice all too clearly when she began to sing a lullaby._

_“In time’s flow, see the glow, of flames ever burning bright…” the lyrics were all too familiar. When Byleth realized the voice belonged to Rhea, the world around her faded, like blowing on a pile of dust, the wind carrying away the very fabric of reality. Her eyelids were heavy, and Byleth blinked slowly, closing her eyes on her dream world and opening them to the view of the Holy Mausoleum._

Her head rested in Rhea’s lap, whose eyes were shut peacefully as she sang the familiar song. Byleth sat up, and was relieved when the archbishop’s singing suddenly came to a stop. Her hair was a mess, the once elegant crown of lilies now crumpled and askew. She noticed several tears on the hem of her gown, and was confused by the emptiness of the mausoleum.

“Mother Rhea, what’s…” she stuttered in her confusion.

“Shhh…” Rhea whispered at her, nudging her to lay back down. “You must be exhausted, precious one.” 

“What about the Rite of Rebirth? Did I miss it?” asked Byleth, the windowless mausoleum giving no hints as to the time of day.

“Worry not about that. I have everything taken care of. Oh, Byleth, everything is coming together. The goddess’s radiant presence will be with us soon, I know it will,” she said gleefully.

“Wait, what about the gatekeeper?” she asked, remembering then what had transpired at the Holy Tomb. “Is he okay?” 

“What are you talking about? It’s time to rest now, dearest one.” Rhea deflected, stroking her forehead. Byleth then had no other choice but to remain there, wishing desperately for her father’s presence. She looked up at the ceiling, gazing at a mural depicting the goddess. The clothes the goddess wore matched the ones Byleth donned, her serene face framed by soft brown hair and a crown of white lilies similar to Byleth’s. Her face was so peaceful, so serene, and Byleth said a silent prayer that she might impart some of that peace to her. Into the night, the young archbishop successor found solace in being unbothered by Sothis for the rest of the night.

* * *

The twentieth of the Horsebow Moon, 1175. Most children would be ecstatic about their sixteenth birthday, but Byleth was not in a celebratory mood. Nearly two moons had passed since the tumultuous day of the Rite of Rebirth, and she felt as though her body was still recovering. She spoke not a word of what happened in the Tomb to her father, telling him only that she had an episode with Sothis before passing out.

Before the morning sun rose, Byleth prepared herself for the day’s lectures and church services. She was surprised when a knock came at the door. 

“It’s me,” came Jeralt’s voice.

“Dad, why are you here so early?” she asked, letting him in. 

“Pfft. Have you forgotten what day it is? I’m more of a lousy father than I thought,” said Jeralt. Byleth had in fact not forgotten, but gave her father an inquisitive look anyway.

“It’s your birthday, kid! Forget about whatever boring nonsense you had planned today. We’re going out,” he said with a smile. 

“But, Mother Rhea…Will she be alright with it?” asked Byleth.

“Don’t worry. I already talked to her,” Jeralt said. “Now come on, get your stuff. We haven’t got all day.” She was more than happy to oblige, changing out of her robes into a casual outdoorsy outfit.

Father and daughter trekked out to the forests surrounding Garreg Mach, setting up a modest camp near a lake. Packing a picnic full of snacks, Byleth and Jeralt looked forward to a day of hunting and fishing in peace-exactly the way the archbishop-to-be wanted to spend her precious free day.

“So did it take a lot of convincing for Rhea to let me go?” Byleth asked.

“Eh, wasn’t too difficult. A lot easier since it is your special day after all,” answered Jeralt.

“I see,” Byleth said.

“You know, kid…” said Jeralt, gazing upon the water’s edge where their fishing lines were cast. “I consider this an anniversary of one of the happiest days of my life. But, it’s also one of the saddest.” 

“Mother, you mean?” Byleth was unsure how to respond.

“Mm-hm. Sitri, she was...she was the kindest soul I had ever known. And she loved you more than anything. I hope you know that,” Jeralt said. 

“I know.” 

“Sometimes I wish I had done things differently. That maybe if I got her, or you, out of this place quicker…” Jeralt trailed off with a chuckle. “No use whining about things. Not like I can turn back time and redo it.”

_Turn back time..._

“I’m sorry, Dad…” Byleth said, absentmindedly missing the bite on the end of her line.

“Don’t be. You have enough to worry about. I just want to promise you, Byleth-things will change for you one day. Whether it’s by my hand or your own, they will.” he said, his candid speech unfamiliar to Byleth. 

“I hope you’re right,” she said.

“I am.” Father and child sat together in relative silence. Byleth reeled in her line. 

“Dad? Do you...believe in the goddess?” she asked timidly.

“The goddess? I...I don’t really know. I mean, how can I? How can I believe in a goddess that would sit back and allow my wife to die, and allow my child to be tortured daily?” Jeralt said. Byleth swallowed back the lump in her throat. 

“But the goddess also created a world in which we can spend afternoons in the woods, or where you can meet friends like Prince Dimitri,” Jeralt said, and was amused when he saw the tiniest hint of excitement in his daughter’s face. “So...it’s hard to say, I guess.”

“I see,” Byleth said. 

“Patience is tough isn’t it? Sothis won’t plague you forever. I have a feeling Rhea knows more than she’s telling us. But we have to wait for the right time to get it out of her. Whether the goddess exists or not, Byleth, she’s not the only one who can save you from Sothis. Remember that,” Jeralt said, able to tell exactly what his child was thinking.

“I just hope you’re right,” she said plainly. It was then that she realized that Sothis had not bothered her or even crossed her mind for the entire day, and was grateful to the goddess for the respite, whether she existed or not.

“Have I ever steered ya wrong?” her father joked, smiling. 

“Not yet,” Byleth quipped back, earning a hearty laugh from her father. 

“Man, I’m starvin’” Jeralt said, reaching for the basket of food he brought. “Let’s eat!”

Parent and child tore into their meals, forgetting any semblance of manners or formalities. Byleth wished for the day to last forever, where she felt like her true self.

* * *

The Guardian Moon of 1175. After a rigorous day of training up in the mountains of Faerghus, Prince Dimitri was headed back to the castle to attend an important council with his father, King Lambert. His muscles ached from sprinting up and down the snow-dusted peaks, and his body was bordering on complete fatigue. Like his tired body, Dimitri himself felt close to crumbling under pressure. But still, he continued forward, the fear of disappointing those around him far more terrifying than the thought of succumbing to fatigue or injury.

Bruises scattered his body, purple, red, and green marks painting grotesque rainbow on his pale skin. He trudged down the slopes, led by his combat instructor and Glenn Fraldarius, whose eternally disapproving glare reminded the young prince not to falter.

“A few more hours and we should be back on the trail. We’re making good time to have you back for the roundtable,” Glenn said, his dark hair concealing his eyes as Dimitri scurried next to him. 

Glenn was a man of few words, and his stoic demeanor often made him unapproachable. Yet he was someone that others strived for approval of-whenever he laughed or complimented someone, they couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment. He was dutiful and reserved, but had an endearing soft spot for his brother Felix. His intentions were always well-meaning, but he was blunt and sometimes rude. In Faerghus, a land that valued chivalry and putting on airs, Glenn was something of an odd duck-his combat prowess, however, earned him a spot as a knight at the Faerghus Royal Guard at the young age of fifteen, and he constantly proved his worthiness as a warrior. Glenn was someone Dimitri looked up to, and he constantly strived to match his displays in sparring.

When the carriage to return them to the castle was in sight, yet still quite far away in the distance, Dimitri’s vision grew blurry.

“Your Highness. Are you okay?” Glenn asked shortly yet concerned.

“Y-Yes, I’m alright, I just…” the young prince trailed off as he felt an intense wave of nausea pool in his stomach. He suppressed the urge to vomit as he used every drop of energy left on each deliberate step forward. His efforts to ignore his ailments were in vain, however, as the world faded to black around him.

***

“Hey. You awake?” Glenn’s voice was distant as Dimitri’s eyes slowly fluttered open. The morning sun peaked out over the horizon, casting a blinding glow on their carriage.

“Glenn? Where am I?” Dimitri rasped, his throat sore and head pounding.

“We’re almost to the castle. Better pull yourself together before we get back to King Lambert,” said Glenn, looking down on the prince. 

“Ah...must have fainted,” thought Dimitri to himself.

“Pathetic…” mumbled the prince.

“Huh? Didn’t hear you,” Glenn said, polishing the end of his blade. 

“I am pathetic. Too weak to endure standard training. How dishonorable,” lamented Dimitri, sitting up. He winced in pain as the soreness of his muscles became all too apparent.

“What’s more pathetic is you sitting there and feeling sorry for yourself, instead of just moving on,” Glenn said bluntly, surprising Dimitri, who glanced at him wide-eyed.

“Don’t look at me like that. It’s much better to be told what you need to hear, rather than what you want to hear. Felix is the same way. You know as well as I do. He gets timid, and he wants reassurance. But what he needs is a little push. Someone to ground him. And it seems you’re pretty similar, Your Highness,” explained Glenn, continuing to clean his sword.

“Glenn…” Dimitri was at a loss for words, astounded by the quiet man’s insight. 

“If you’re unhappy with how things are, do something about it. If you can’t do anything, accept it. If you learn anything from me, let that be it,” the swordsman concluded, reaching over to pat Dimitri on the shoulder.

“You’re right. Thank you. I’ll do better from now on,” Dimitri said, unable to hold back his beaming smile. In a world that seemed to be constantly exerting pressure on him, Dimitri was grateful to have people like Glenn to guide him.

***

As soon as the convoy arrived back at the castle in Fhirdiad, Prince Dimitri was immediately thrust into hasty preparations for the conference. The extensive grooming and coaching as his attendants readied him was tiring and annoying, but the prince continued forward with pride.

The meeting was held at a large table surrounded by knights and guards. At the head of the table sat King Lambert; Dimitri was to stand next to him.

“Don’t fidget, don’t smile, no extreme expressions,” Dimitri remembered the instructions his maid drilled to him. 

_No extreme expressions…_

He suddenly thought of Lady Byleth at Garreg Mach. Usually only thinking of the forlorn girl when he was alone at night and missed her company, Dimitri thought about how things might be easier if he were a bit more like her, at least in this instance.

Also seated at the table was Lord Rodrigue Fraldarius, Margrave Gautier, and Rufus Blaiddyd, the Grand Duke of Itha. The air felt heavy and tense, and Dimitri grew nervous despite the fact that he was to remain completely silent.

King Lambert opened with usual pleasantries, sharing a bow with the other sitting lords. The topic at hand concerned diplomatic ties with the northern territory of Duscur, with whom tensions had been showing signs of easing. The noblemen were split on whether a diplomatic outing to Duscur was a sound idea-Lambert, being ever the optimist, insisted that an excursion would act as the push needed to further dissipate the hostility between Faerghus and Duscur. Margrave Gautier agreed, but Duke Fraldarius expressed his weariness. Lord Rufus vehemently opposed the proposition and made his stance clear.

Lambert and his elder brother Rufus seemed eternally at odds with one another. Holding resentment toward his younger brother, Rufus seemed to deliberately oppose Lambert out of spite. Losing his inheritance of the crown over his lack of a crest, Rufus’s situation was not uncommon among nobility in the Kingdom. But Rufus, unable to accept it, constantly meddled in King Lambert’s governing. 

Ultimately, the King exerted his authority, declaring a diplomatic pilgrimage to Duscur slated to take place in the coming year. Dimitri remained silent and attentive throughout the conference, although some of the heated words thrown across the table escaped the prince’s understanding.

As each party excused themselves, once again tossing pleasantries and formalities at each other, Dimitri watched as his father and Rodrigue headed toward the balcony, each speaking in hushed whispers. Despite the instructions given to him to remain still until they returned, Dimitri couldn’t help but follow discreetly behind. He wished for his father to ask him what he learned, what he thought about the issues discussed. He wished desperately to prove his advancements.

On the balcony, Dimitri hid behind a pillar as Lambert and Rodrigue spoke freely. 

“Lambert, my old friend.. I know how keen you are on furthering the Kingdom’s glory, but I beg you to reconsider the matter concerning Duscur,” said Rodrigue, worry creasing his brow. 

“Rodrigue, nothing you could say would change my mind. You worry too much, my friend. So far relations with Duscur have been going smoothly, wouldn’t you say? You of all people should appreciate how critical these negotiations are.” Lambert said, a confident smile gracing his face.

“Of course I do, but…for the king himself to make the journey…You must admit that it’s dangerous. And His Highness is still so young. If the worst should happen…” Rodrigue trailed off.

“Even if the worst should happen, he would be OK. He’s a smart boy, Rodrigue. Even if he should lose his father, I have no doubt that he will grow to be a good and respectable man.” said the king.

“Lambert…”

“However…if he ever starts down the wrong path, and I am not here to set him straight, I am trusting you to do so in my stead, old friend. Promise me…” 

Dimitri took the chance to scamper back inside as the men turned back toward him, lest the young prince get caught.

The joy Dimitri found in hearing his father express concern over him far outweighed the guilt of eavesdropping on words not meant for him. In a time where Dimitri was losing his drive to endure his duties, the care of those closest to him rekindled the fire of motivation within him. 

* * *

**_The Garland Moon of 1176_ **

“Hyah!” Ingrid lunged forward with a wooden training sword in hand, her footing sloppy. Had she not stumbled over her poor stance, she could have landed a blow on her sparring partner. Dimitri, expertly dodging her forward thrust, used the opportunity to execute a side sweep, jabbing Ingrid in the side.

“Ugh!” she groaned in disappointment. “I can’t land a single one.”

“Aw, it’s okay Ingrid! You’ll get it eventually!” called Sylvain from the side, Felix sitting quietly next to him. 

Ingrid sulked dramatically over to the two, tossing her blade to the side. 

“Well, Felix? You wanna give it a go?” Ingrid asked, stretching her limbs.

“I guess I can,” the dark haired boy said quietly, grabbing his weapon.

“Don’t sound so excited there, friend,” laughed Sylvain, patting Felix on the back.

“Don’t be so quick to put yourself down, Ingrid. Your skills are well above average,” said Dimitri.

“You don’t need to flatter me,” Ingrid sighed. “I know I could never match you.” 

“I suppose there’s always someone better. But that just gives us something to strive for! Believe me, Ingrid, I know the feeling,” Dimitri assured with a smile. 

“Oh, we’re well aware. We all know you’re thinking about that girl from Garreg Mach!” teased Sylvain. Dimitri felt his face heat up, much to his chagrin.

“I-I...surely not, Sylvain! Please, cease your childish teasing!” cried Dimitri in his embarrassment. He noticed Ingrid and Felix trying to hold back their grins. 

“Why the red face, Your Highness? All I was saying was that Lady Byleth is a great fighter. Maybe this is the one you should actually give a dagger to!” Sylvain flashed a toothy grin. Dimitri glared at the fiery philanderer, holding back the urge to charge at him with his training sword. 

“Don’t listen to him, Dimitri. He’s just being an idiot,” Felix tried to be on Dimitri’s side, but his suppressed snickers betrayed him. Dimitri frowned.

“Oh, Your Highness! You know we just mean it in good fun. We didn’t mean to actually upset you,” Ingrid said. 

“Yes, of course,” sighed Dimitri. “If your laughs are at my expense, so be it.” 

Sylvain’s expression lit up suddenly, as if remembering something important.

“I know how to make it up to you!” he exclaimed, rummaging through his bag. 

“What are you doing, Sylvain?” Ingrid asked, her arms crossed.

“Here we go…” the redhead mumbled, pulling a crumpled envelope out of his bag. “Totally forgot to give this to you!” he handed it to Dimitri. 

The prince’s eyes widened when he saw the official seal of the Church of Seiros.

“Sylvain, how long have you had this!? This letter is nearly a year old,” Dimitri said, looking at the marked date on the envelope.

“It’s been a while...but hear me out!” Sylvain answered sheepishly. “You know that girl I had been talking to? Melanie?” 

“Her name is Melody, Sylvain,” Ingrid said, rolling her eyes.

“Anyway...her mother works in the castle. Helps manage documents and correspondence for your father. King Lambert saw this letter addressed to you and intercepted it, telling her to destroy it. But Melody stole it and gave it to me since she knew we were friends,” explained Sylvain with a wink.

“My father didn’t want me to have this? I suppose that isn’t surprising,” Dimitri said. “Well, it looks like your casual flings have come in handy for once.”

“Well? Are you going to open it?” asked Felix, curious.

“Yeah, what are you waiting for? See what it says!” agreed Ingrid. 

Dimitri carefully opened the envelope, taking extra caution not to tear or mutilate the parchment or wax seal. His heart raced when he opened the letter tucked inside, seeing it signed with Byleth’s name. He read the letter to himself, hearing her soft, deep voice reciting the words to him in his head. 

He impulsively snapped the paper to his chest when Sylvain tried to look over his shoulder at the message.

“Ooh, someone’s defensive! You two got something going on after all?” he was clearly having too much fun messing with the blonde prince. 

“Would it be too much to ask of you to respect my privacy?” Dimitri sighed, his embarrassment obvious. 

“Sure, sure. Will do, Your Highness. When you’re ready to admit your true feelings, though, we’ll be here!” quipped Sylvain. 

“Sometimes people can just be friends, Sylvain. Not sure if you were aware,” said Felix in defense of Dimitri. 

“That’s true. Lady Byleth was just so far removed from everyone here, from the people who are always expecting something from me...Byleth expected nothing. That, itself, was all the validation I had been looking for. Why, then, should I expect anything else from her or my relation to her?” said Dimitri reminiscently, suddenly longing for Byleth’s company once again. 

“Oh, Your Highness…” said Ingrid.

“We didn’t mean to make you sad, Dimitri,” Felix apologized for the group; the other two nodded in agreement.

“Oh, not at all! Please don’t mind my ramblings!” Dimitri said, assuming his princely, cordial personality once again.

“You’ll see her again one day, I’m sure of it!” Ingrid said confidently.

“Yes, for sure. The church and the Kingdom have such strong ties, after all. I just wish I had some way to return this favor to her,” Dimitri said.

“Guys, it’s getting late. Training hours will be over soon,” said Felix.

“Ah, right you are. We better be heading back,” said Dimitri, moving to pack up his gear.

“Looks like we wasted a lot of time, huh? I’m not too mad about it,” Sylvain said playfully. 

“You know, you should really work harder,” Ingrid scolded. The group’s banter continued all the way back, an air of carefree optimism hanging over them.

* * *

The fifteenth of the Blue Sea Moon of Imperial Year 1176. The chilly air blew through the coverings on the carriages that carried the Blaiddyds across the bumpy trail on the plains of Duscur. The day of the peace negotiations had arrived, and Dimitri awaited silently as their voyage continued wordlessly and eventless. Among the party was King Lambert, Glenn, and several other knights. Queen consort Patricia was in attendance as well, with her carriage following at the back of the convoy. Dusk quickly approached, and they expected to arrive at their destination the following day. If Dimitri was being honest with himself, he would have rather traveled with his stepmother, but was urged to arrive with his father to keep up appearances. 

As they came upon a small village, a low rumble erupted in the distance. 

“What was that?” He thought to himself. A look of concern crossed Lambert’s face, and Glenn reached for his blade.

Suddenly, a deafening explosion threw the carriage violently on its side, ejecting its occupants and slamming them on the unforgiving ground. When Dimitri had recovered from having the breath knocked from his lungs, he was confused to see the carriage aflame, and a hoard of unknown silhouettes encroaching quickly on their party.

“We’re under attack! Steel yourselves!” Glenn screamed. 

Dimitri snapped his head wildly around, but had trouble seeing anyone familiar past the blurriness in his vision and the thick cloud of smoke already forming. Another fiery blast came from the direction of the mysterious silhouettes-they fired multiple strikes of ragnarok, the raging flames that ensued successfully created a state of chaos. 

Before Dimitri could fully comprehend the situation, the unknown soldiers were upon them, attacking everyone in sight. Although he could only catch a glimpse of them, their weapons shone ominously, the blades they wielded evil-looking, and gleaming of black steel. Screams erupted from the village, and Dimitri’s stomach turned as heard the sound of blades piercing flesh.

“Father? Glenn!?” he called out. 

Able to get back on his feet, the prince ran with wild abandon with nothing but a puny dagger to defend himself. Blood already painted the ground around him, and he wondered how such destruction could happen so fast. The screams of agony and the heat of the fire branded themselves into his mind.

“Dimitri!” 

The voice made him spin around, desperately trying to pinpoint the location from which it came. When he spotted his father in the distance, he had only a moment to lock eyes with the king before it happened. 

A militant dressed in long black robes, with a beaked mask concealing the entirety of their face appeared as if by magic behind Lambert, a wicked axe in hand. With cold-blooded precision, the militant cleaved the king’s head from his shoulders. The spray of blood spattered over the assailant’s mask; the sight was more gruesome than anything Dimitri could have imagined in his most horrific nightmares. The scream that left him did not sound familiar or even human, but the scratch in his throat and the ringing in his head confirmed it indeed originated from him. Dimitri retched, and emptied the contents of his stomach on the bloodied ground in despair and disgust. The young prince hadn’t time to grieve, however, as his father’s killer noticed him watching, and Dimitri could tell that he was their next target.

Dimitri ran as fast as he possibly could, his stolen sword in hand, ignoring the sharp pain as the brutal flames licked his skin and the thick smoke enveloped his lungs. He felt tears sting his cheeks as he ran; his efforts to drown out the screams and sounds of clashing blades were futile. Dimitri slowed his pace ever so slightly when he thought he outran the assassin. He froze when he came across a familiar body.

Dimitri thought his heart came to a complete stop as he looked upon Glenn’s mangled corpse. His raven hair was strewn about and matted with blood, his Zoltan sword laying close by. Without thinking, Dimitri dropped to his knees to retrieve the weapon; it was then that he got a closer look at his face. Glenn’s expression was one of terror and regret, his eyes wide open even in death. With still no time to lament, Dimitri quickly closed Glenn’s eyelids in an act of chivalry before he set off fleeing again, the flames soon to overtake the lifeless body.

As much as he wanted to look away, Dimitri could not ignore the bodies that littered the ground, nor could he block out the nasty stench that permeated the air-like roasted meat, steeped in the thick odor of burning hair and a sickly sweet, perfume-like aroma that sickened him to his stomach. 

Amidst the carnage, hiding among a pile of wreckage and debris, Dimitri spotted a boy around his age. His wispy white hair was dusted with blackened ash, and his terrified expression called out to Dimitri’s heart. From a distance, he could see an assailant approaching, one of the militia’s devilish, elusive weapons in tow. Without thinking, Dimitri sprinted in front of the boy, shielding him from the enemy’s sword. He screamed in pain as a deep gash spread across his back. Then, relying on instinct and everything his rigorous combat training had taught him, Dimitri blocked the next swing and followed with a forward jab through the assailant’s abdomen.

“Run!” he yelled, turning back to face the boy. He grabbed his hand and the two ran further away from the chaos.

“You are hurt!” said the white haired boy, seeming to struggle with his words. Dimitri ignored him, paying no mind to the blood soaking through his shirt as they kept running.

The boys came upon a wooded area, a perfect place to regroup and hide.

“We’ll wait out here,” said Dimitri as they buried themselves in a thicket. 

“Please, your wounds…” the boy said, motioning to Dimitri’s back. He reached into a bag that rested at his side, and pulled out an elixir. 

“Thank you...“ said Dimitri, removing his shirt. 

The Duscurian boy administered the salve while Dimitri gritted his teeth in pain. The cut did not come close to being fatal, but disinfection was essential in ensuring it did not become otherwise.

“What is your name?” asked Dimitri, urgently pulling his shirt back on.

“It is Dedue,” the boy said.

“Right. I am Dimitri. If...if we’re to survive this, we need to keep running,” he said, out of breath.

“Do you have supplies? If we are empty-handed, we could die from exposure,” Dedue said in response.

“Hmmm…” Dimitri had trouble trying to think of a plan, as he was unable to drown out the sounds of the massacre. As he blinked, images of his father’s body and Glenn’s corpse invaded his vision, bringing about an unbearable sense of nausea. 

“Let’s keep hiding,” urged Dedue. “Surely this won’t continue for much longer.”

“Alright...alright.” Dimitri conceded.

“Over here,” said Dedue after briefly scanning the area. He led them to a hollowed tree trunk, and they crawled under in hiding. The space was cramped, but offered a bit of respite from the air that stung their eyes and assaulted their nostrils.

Dimitri looked at Dedue’s face for the first time, and saw the eyes of a boy who had led a far different life than he had. His face was slightly scarred and burned, indicating that the boy was no stranger to a hard day’s work. Tears streamed down his face, though his expression remained calm. Dimitri shed his own tears as well, reaching out to embrace his new tragic companion. Dimitri lost everything precious to him, and he found his thoughts on the goddess. Raised with such a strong emphasis on the teachings of Seiros and the church, Dimitri had been raised to believe in her grace and salvation. So, why had she forsaken him now, in his time of need? Why did she deny him her hand of salvation when he needed it most?

Dimitri lost his sense of time waiting in the forest, and couldn’t even begin to guess when the screams, clashing swords and tearing flesh began to subside. Smoke and fire lingered in the air, and the eerie stillness that eventually came told them that no survivors remained. They emerged when the silence pervaded and walked out into a grotesque sight.

The village was completely decimated, the rubble now painting a wasteland where a humble village once stood. Bodies littered the ground everywhere they stepped; the sight and smell causing Dimitri to dry heave. The boys stared in awe, unable to process the destruction around them.

“Your Highness!!” a voice cried desperately from the distance. 

Instinctively, Dimitri brandished Glenn’s Zoltan sword in the direction of the noise; he quickly lowered it when he saw Gustave’s unmistakable orange hair waving in the wind as his horse carried him toward the prince.

“Prince Dimitri, thank the goddess! Please, let’s hurry!” the trusted knight said as he helped Dimitri onto the horse. 

“Wait, Gustave!” the prince protested as he started to leave without Dedue. “We will not leave without him.”

“But, Your Highness, is that really such a good idea considering the circumstances. I-”

“That’s an order!” Dimitri exclaimed. Gustave complied, hoisting the Duscurian up onto the saddle. 

“Dimitri...you really don’t have to,” said Dedue.

“Nonsense,” Dimitri said shortly, holding on as Gustave led them out of the hellscape. The prince remained silent during the ride, hoping for an awakening from his lucid nightmare that would never come.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my sweet bf for proofreading the chapter for me i appreciate it uwu uwu
> 
> Follow me!  
> twitter.com/itswingberry


	3. Lost in the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our babies have reunited!! ;w; I wanted to make sure to get some lighter stuff in this chapter after the last one, even though y'all know I can't help myself with the angst whee hee hee. I want to thank y'all for the support so far, I really honestly didn't think I would get any kind of a response on this one haha! Thanks for reading <3

* * *

The twenty-sixth of the Lone Moon of Imperial Year 1179. Dimitri closed the cover on a textbook he was reading with Dedue. 

“Masterful work, my friend. Your reading and writing skills have come a long way!” the prince praised.

“You flatter me, Your Highness. But there is always room for improvement,” Dedue said humbly.

“Even if that’s true, you’re more than ready for our studies at the academy,” said Dimitri. 

“Yes, Your Highness,” Dedue nodded. The quiet man noticed worry in his liege’s face as the room went silent.

“If you are concerned, you are not obligated to attend the Academy. The church would understand your duty to the Kingdom,” he said to the prince.

“No. This is something I must do. I am to be the house leader, after all,” Dimitri said.

There certainly was much to be concerned about in Faerghus. Since the Tragedy of Duscur in the summer of 1176, the Kingdom had fallen nearly to complete ruin. Duscur and its people bore the weight of accused regicide on their shoulders, and unfairly paid the price with genocide at the hands of the Kingdom’s army. Barred from ascending the throne on account of his age, Dimitri could only watch idly with frustration as his uncle Rufus, now regent of Faerghus, drove the Kingdom further into dire straits through his ignorant complacency. 

Thinking of it all made Dimitri’s head hurt immensely; he felt his heartbeat throbbing uncomfortably in his skull.

“Urgh…” he groaned sharply, gripping his forehead. 

“Your Highness?” said Dedue with concern. 

“Ah, please, do not worry. Merely a little spell,” Dimitri assured, trying to smile through the pain as he swore he saw his father standing in the doorway of the study. 

“Please make sure not to overdo it,” Dedue said. 

“I’ll be fine. Really.” 

“It is as you say. We should finish preparing for our departure. There’s only a little more left to be done,” suggested Dedue. 

“Yes, let’s. I also would not be opposed to leaving a bit early, to be quite honest…” said the prince. 

“If you wish. But if I may be so bold, will it not be rude to change your schedule so abruptly?” asked Dedue. 

Dimitri smiled bitterly, a dry chuckle escaping him. “You and I both know that there is no one here who would bat an eye.” 

Dedue nodded and wordlessly rose from their table, getting to work.

***

As Dimitri shuffled through his quarters, scanning over his belongings to make sure he hadn’t forgot anything, he found an old, slightly crumpled envelope in the back of his desk drawer. He recognized the wax seal from the Church of Seiros and felt suddenly reminiscent. 

His thoughts seldom dwelled on Byleth or the monastery for the three years since the horror he lived through in Duscur. Dimitri’s life since that day had been consumed by the tumultuous instability in his kingdom-he no longer had the time to think of himself or mull over a friendship from the distant past. During the years, he had cast her aside in his mind as nothing more than an unattainable fantasy. But now, as the Officers Academy was so close in sight, Dimitri indulged his thoughts of her. Would they still get along like they did when they were children? Was she even still living at Garreg Mach?

He hoped that she had found a way to escape the voice inside her mind over the years. Thinking back to her episodes, the way she described its presence, Dimitri was cruelly reminded of the ghosts that often came to visit him, to talk to him. The prince smiled bitterly. Maybe they were not so different after all. Impatient for answers, Dimitri stuffed the letter in his bag and headed for the stables to ensure the horses were ready to go by morning.

* * *

Garreg Mach Monastery was just as beautiful as Dimitri remembered it-the peaceful environment fostered calmness in his heart. The voyage was completely uneventful, with no weather impeding the journey. New students of the Officers Academy gathered in the courtyard, where volunteers led them to their classrooms and escorted their luggage to their private quarters. Instructors for each class would not be determined right away, but Dimitri hoped his would be blessed with a professor who excelled in physical combat.

Many bright faces quickly filled the Blue Lions classroom for introductions. Dimitri made it a point to do his best to remember each face, wanting to be the best house leader he could. 

Dimitri was delighted to see familiar faces-Sylvain, Ingrid, and Felix were also to be in the same class. It had been nearly a year since he had spent any quality time with his childhood friends, and hoped the coming school year would foster reconnection. Felix, however, did not seem to be on board with such an idea. His face contorted with obvious disgust when he laid eyes on the prince. 

“Just because you’re our house leader doesn’t mean I’m going to make a point of associating with beasts,” he had said. Felix’s words stung, but in his heart Dimitri knew why he said them.

Also catching his eye among his new peers were Annette Fantine Dominic, Ashe Ubert, and Mercedes von Martritz, whom he hoped to have the pleasure of further befriending. 

After each class had the opportunity to get acquainted with one another, the volunteers from the church led the students on an official tour of Garreg Mach. Dimitri was surprised to find that he acutely remembered most of the layout from so long ago. In the cathedral, Dimitri was taken aback to see her again.

Byleth was leading a prayer at the altar, adorned in elegant robes displaying the crest of Seiros. She had grown out of her childish, awkward body from years before, and her fidgetiness was no longer there. The golden tiara and lilies wrapped in her hair were similar to Archbishop Rhea’s, although less extravagant. Dimitri felt as though he had been transported back six years, the scene resembling the first time he laid eyes upon her as a child. He wished for her to open her eyes from her prayers, to lay her sights upon him as well, but the thought scared him too. They had not spoken in six years, after all, nor did he return the letter she sent to him. Was there anything left of the short friendship they once shared?

“That’s her, isn’t it?” Sylvain’s hushed whisper broke through the fog of Dimitri’s inner thoughts and startled him. 

“W-what?” the prince said in confusion. 

“It’s Lady Byleth, isn’t it?” Sylvain reiterated, motioning to the altar where she stood. 

“Yes, it is…” Dimitri confirmed wistfully as they were led out of the cathedral so as not to further disturb the prayers. 

“She’s absolutely gorgeous. You better watch out, Dimitri. I may make my move on her if you don’t!” said Sylvain.

“Sylvain, honestly!” chided Dimitri, only half-heartedly indulging their conversation.

“But really, Dimitri. You should find the chance to talk to her. I’m sure she’d be glad to see you again,” said Sylvain.

“I don’t know. Much time has passed. I’m sure both of us have changed greatly,” said Dimitri with uncertainty.

“You won’t know until you try,” Sylvain shrugged. “You’ve got an entire school year, so I’m sure the opportunity will come.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” said Dimitri thoughtfully as the class was led into the dining hall for supper.

Each house sat together to share their first meal at the monastery together. Dimitri said a silent blessing for the staff in having to keep up with the hoard of new, rambunctious students. Supper was filled with chatter of the coming school year, speculation about who would be teaching each house, and gossip about the house leaders and notable nobles in attendance. Dimitri snapped to attention when he heard Edelgard’s name mentioned among the clamor.

“W-who did you say the other house leaders were?” Dimitri asked Annette.

“Oh! Well, Claude Von Riegan, the grandson of Duke Riegan of the Alliance, will be leading the Golden Deer. And the imperial princess, Edelgard von Hresvelg, will be leading the Black Eagles.”

“There are so many high-status people here…” said Ashe.

“It seems the conflicts in our countries haven’t stopped all of us from gathering here,” said Mercedes, her voice soft and soothing.

“Doesn’t mean conflict’s not out there,” said Felix.

“I guess that’s true. It’s just funny that all of Fódlan’s future rulers are here at the monastery!” said Annette.

“Yeah, all four of them!” added Sylvain.

“Huh?” Ingrid questioned.

“Are you talking about Lady Byleth? The next archbishop?” Mercedes asked.

“Yup,” Sylvain confirmed. 

“It’s strange to think about Lady Rhea giving up her position,” Ingrid said.

“She looks young, but she’s been the archbishop for many years,” said Mercedes.

“Wonder what her secret to never aging is?” Sylvain joked, earning an eye roll from Ingrid.

“You know, they say Lady Byleth is something of an oracle-that the goddess’s voice will fall on her ears…” Mercedes said.

“Like Saint Seiros?” said Ashe.

“Maybe! I’ve heard she can be a bit reclusive, but that she is very wise and knowledgeable,” said Mercedes. 

“It seems you’re quite well-versed on the happenings of the Church of Seiros, Mercedes!” Dimitri praised.

“Oh, yes. My faith is very important to me,” the young woman replied with a giggle.

“What _ I’m _ interested in is her combat skill. From what I hear, she’d be a better sparring partner than anyone sitting here,” Felix interjected, arms crossed.

“Is that so?” asked Ashe. Felix nodded. “I’ve heard tell that her skills outmatch even the most seasoned of the Knights of Seiros,” he added.

“Well, her father  _ is  _ the captain of the Knights…” said Sylvain. 

“Really? Oh my, does that mean that Sir Jeralt and Lady Rhea…” Annette said, trailing off. 

“No, no. Lady Byleth isn’t the archbishop’s child,” Ingrid added quickly, trying to steer the conversation away from gossip. 

“Seems the church has a bunch of family drama,” Sylvain chuckled.

“Your Highness, are you quite alright? You’ve gone quiet,” Ashe’s soft voice shook Dimitri out of his stupor; he hadn’t noticed how his heart started racing when the conversation turned to Byleth.

“Oh, yes, I’m fine! And please, no need for the titles. Here, we’re all equals,” said Dimitri with a smile.

The chatter continued well after the students had wiped their plates clean, their noisy banter continuing until the bell rang, signaling the end of the day. The new students were ushered to the dormitories, the first official day of instruction to begin in the morning. Plagued by insomnia, Dimitri lied awake with racing thoughts.

He rose and dressed himself, compelled to walk the peaceful monastery grounds for some respite. The night air was still and cool, and the darkness of the evening was comforting. Walking the grounds of Garreg Mach evoked a nostalgic feeling for him-walking past the training grounds and the fishing pond made his heart ache for the days he spent with his father and Byleth. He ended up at the cathedral, nervous to walk through its looming metal doors.

The inside was dim, but still slightly illuminated by candlelight, providing a sanctuary for the few worshippers inside. Dimitri felt exposed as his every footstep echoed deafeningly throughout the building. In the pews, he saw Byleth, sitting and chatting with an elderly man. Torn between wanting desperately to approach her and wanting to run in the opposite direction, he froze stiffly in place. Her words to the man were hushed, but her voice was still clear and soft like the prince remembered. Dimitri resolved finally to take a seat in the pews at the back of the church, too nervous to approach, but too hopeful to leave.

Some time passed as he waited for Byleth to notice him, his anxiety heightening with each agonizing minute that passed. Byleth and the man finally rose from their seats, and as Byleth turned slightly she caught a glimpse of Dimitri from the corner of her eye. When she parted ways with the old man, she slowly walked toward him, the only hint of emotion in her blank expression being the slight furrow of her brow. She wore naught but a simple white gown; she felt familiar, yet a stranger at the same time.

“Prince Dimitri,” she said simply, sitting near him on the pews.

“Hello, Lady Byleth. I...I’m glad to see you,” Dimitri said, his voice weak with anxiousness.

“I am surprised to hear that. But, I am happy to see you as well,” she said.

“I am sorry I have been silent all these years, I-”

“Worry not. I know you have endured much,” she interrupted. An awkward silence hung over them.

“I am to assume you are enrolled at the Officers Academy, then?” Byleth asked finally.

“I am.” Dimitri saw the faintest hint of a smile on her face when he answered. 

“I’m...happy to hear that,” said Byleth.

“Have you been managing well?” Byleth knew what the question meant, even if the prince’s politeness prevented him from asking it outright.

“I suppose things are much the same. I have simply learned how better to handle it,” Byleth responded.

“I see,” said Dimitri.

“The hour is late. Perhaps it would be best for you to return to your quarters. I wouldn’t want to get you in to trouble so early in the year,” Byleth suggested, taking the opportunity when the next wave of silence washed over them.

“Perhaps you’re right. But I wish we could speak a while longer…” the prince lamented.

“Don’t worry, Dimitri,” he loved hearing his name fall from her tongue. “We have plenty of time to catch up.” 

“Right. Well, I’ll take my leave, then,” said Dimitri, moving toward the door. “Let’s not allow this to be the last time we speak.” 

“Of course. Until next time,” Byleth said simply, giving a short bow as Dimitri exited.

As Dimitri made his way back to his room, he ran through the evening in his head, making sure he hadn’t dreamed it. His heart anticipated the next time he would meet her, but truthfully he had hoped their reunion had been a bit different. 

_ “She did not even seem excited to see me again,” _ Dimitri thought to himself.

He reminded himself that to expect her to be expressive would be unfair, but at the very least he hoped to close the gap the years had so unforgivingly put between them. With so many unanswered questions, Dimitri lay back down to bed feeling even more restless than before; the few hours of sleep he managed to steal away were filled with tense dreams.

* * *

The routine of life at the monastery was something Byleth Eisner eventually forced herself to accept. Unlike so many years that now lay behind her, Byleth’s goals became clear and tangible; rather than strive for unattainable aspirations like those having to do with the goddess, she shifted her focus to uncovering the truth behind who Sothis was, and what she wanted from her. She knew not the best way to handle it, but knew the two individuals who knew the most, Rhea and Sothis herself, wanted to do their best to withhold the truth. Enlisting the help of her father, Byleth spent what little free time she had sneaking around the monastery to uncover hidden information.

Her first concern was scanning through the multitude of history books in the library, searching for the identity of any groups that would make themselves an enemy of the goddess or the Church of Seiros. Most information readily available carried obvious biases in favor of the church. So, the young successor took to prowling about the monastery archives, hidden passageways, and basements, hoping to find information concerning the truth about the War of Heroes, and the accuracy of the widely accepted history of Fódlan. 

“It’s pretty convenient how the monastery is right in the middle of the Empire, Kingdom,  _ and  _ Alliance. Too convenient, if you ask me,” Jeralt said as he and his child sat one night sifting endlessly through dubious notes, journals, and reports. 

So many things did not add up for Byleth. What exactly was the “darkness” that consumed Fódlan so long ago and corrupted the King of Liberation? Why did the goddess seem so involved in the happenings of mankind, going so far as to gift them with the Heroes’ Relics and crests, only to disappear and watch silently from afar in present times? What was the true nature of the identity of Saint Seiros and the goddess? Byleth was sure the enigma of the mysterious girl Sothis would be solved if she only had a clearer view of the vast labyrinth that was Fódlan’s history. 

Sothis was ever present in Byleth’s mind, but growing up had taught her ways to drown out her voice and gain better control over her mind. She even escaped the brunt of Rhea’s wrath too, as she learned to be more emotionally in tune and use her skills to deliver false platitudes from the goddess that she knew the archbishop wanted to hear. 

Over the years, Byleth watched as classes came and went from the Officer’s Academy, always scanning the rosters to see if Prince Dimitri’s name would ever appear. For the four years that his name did not appear, her disappointment was deep but brief; she never had much trouble determinedly throwing herself back into her work. 

***

The second of the Great Tree Moon, Imperial Year 1180. Byleth walked briskly away from the cathedral, putting an end to her evening of leading prayer for those who could not find solace that peaceful evening. As much of a chore as most of her work with the church ended up being for her, Byleth took pride in being a pillar of support for those who needed it the most-she had spent the better half of her night chatting openly with an elderly old man, hailing from Enbarr, who had fallen on hard times. The latter portion of the evening she had spent in a way she was completely unprepared for-bringing her before the door of her father’s quarters. 

“Dad, it’s me. Are you in there?” she said quietly as she tapped on the door. 

“Byleth? Is something wrong?” Jeralt said with concern as he let his daughter inside. 

“I...I don’t know,” she responded.

“What?” said Jeralt.

“In the cathedral just now, it’s...Dimitri is here. He’s a student, at the academy,” she explained as she sat on the edge of the bed.

“And that’s a problem because...?” her father’s confusion only grew.

“What do I do?” said Byleth. Jeralt’s ensuing laughter irritated her. “Why are you laughing?” 

“Sorry, kid,” he said, trying to stifle the last of his wheezes. “You just amuse me sometimes. You could, I don’t know, talk to him?” 

“You know I’m not good at that kind of thing,” she frowned. 

“You seemed to get along with him just fine the last time he was here,” Jeralt said.

“Much has changed since then. I am not the same person I once was, and I’m sure it’s the same for him. Especially with the events in the Kingdom and Duscur…” Byleth said.

“Even so, don’t get ahead of yourself. You need to actually spend time with him first before you can know whether or not you two still have any connection left,” he reminded. 

“But how? How am I to find the chance for us to talk?”

“Stalk his every move and corner him when he least expects it?” Jeralt joked, earning him an unamused stare from his daughter. 

“Maybe...maybe it’s not too late for me to enroll as a student in the Officers Academy?” Byleth voiced her thoughts aloud.

**Do that, and you’ll regret it,** came Sothis’s voice.

“As if Rhea would go for  _ that _ . But you’re a smart one, kid. I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” assured Jeralt, stretching and yawning loudly. 

“We’ll see. I’m assuming you want me to let you sleep now,” said Byleth in response to Jeralt’s exaggerated yawns.

“Not to be an ass, but I’ve got an early mission tomorrow. With Alois, no less, so I’m gonna need all the sleep I can get. But if you really need me to stay up, I can,” her father offered.

“No, it’s okay. I should get some sleep as well,” Byleth conceded, moving to leave.

“Alright then. Night, kid,” said Jeralt, giving her a firm pat on the shoulder.

“Night, Dad,” she said, and headed back to her own room, already formulating a plan.

* * *

The fourth of the Great Tree Moon. Byleth was surprised when her request for a one on one audience with Rhea was granted on such short notice. As evening fell upon Garreg Mach, Byleth sat with the archbishop in a private study, sipping gingerly on a cup of Seiros tea.

“I'm glad to sit here with you, my child. It’s been so long since we’ve talked like this,” Rhea said in her smooth voice. Byleth nodded.

“But there is a reason for my visit today, Mother Rhea,” said Byleth.

“I suspected as much, Go on,” said Rhea softly. 

“It seems the Officers Academy is unexpectedly short a professor. I wanted to volunteer myself for the position,” Byleth said boldly. She felt immediate tension in her skull when the words left her mouth.

**I told you not to do that! All you ever do is get distracted!**

A beat of silence passed before Rhea let out mocking laughter.

“Dear child, what a ridiculous notion. Why would you request such a thing?” the archbishop asked incredulously.

“I think it would be a perfect arrangement. I would gain leadership experience within the church, and the students would benefit from the skills I have to offer,” Byleth explained, maintaining her stoic demeanor. Rhea’s face softened.

“Oh, Byleth. I...I understand where you’re coming from. But such a position is so beneath you…” said Rhea. 

“I should like to think the goddess wouldn’t consider one person above another,” Byleth muttered, letting annoyance get the best of her.

**Wouldn’t she?**

“You had better watch your tongue, child,” said Rhea, her mood transforming like the flip of a switch.

“Right, I apologize, Mother Rhea-”

“The power of the crests and the Heroes’ Relics that were so cruelly stolen from the goddess, you know that only a select few are qualified to wield such power,” the archbishop rambled. 

**You’ve really set her off now!** The pounding in her head clouded Byleth’s vision.

“Mother Rhea, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Byleth tried calmly to deflect.

“Of course, of course. It is simply important that you understand what’s expected of you, lest you fall short of the goddess’s grace,” said Rhea.

“Yes, Mother Rhea. I apologize. But, going back to my proposal. I really must ask you to consider it,” feeling bold, Byleth pushed the issue.

**I can’t believe how much of an IDIOT you are.**

“I thought I made my stance clear,” warned Rhea.

“I simply believe that I have not been living as Saint Seiros did. Saint Seiros was a brave warrior, as well as a prophet who spread the goddess’s wisdom to her many followers. All I do is study and train in solitude. As a professor, I could live more like Saint Seiros and teach our students to do the same,” Byleth explained, knowing the exact words to say to sway Rhea.

“I see your point, dear, but…” Rhea trailed off with a sigh.

“We need to take action, Mother Rhea. The Empire has already turned away almost completely from the church. We need to focus on strengthening our ties with Faerghus and re-establishing connections with the Alliance.”

**You really know how to play her like a fiddle, huh? You’re nothing but a liar who manipulates everyone around her to get what she wants.**

“Well, consider me swayed dear. Be proud of how far your skills of persuasion have come,” the archbishop said jokingly. 

“Professor Manuela has already taken charge of the Black Eagles, and Professor Hanneman is set to lead the Golden Deer. That shall leave you with the Blue Lions,” Rhea said.

“Mother Rhea...thank you for this opportunity,” said Byleth as she stood up, offering a graceful bow. 

“I trust you will exceed expectations,” said Rhea.

“Of course.”

“Well, I must be off. There is much to attend to,” Rhea said as she moved toward the door.

“I understand. Allow me to clean up for you,” offered Byleth.

“No need. Cyril will be in shortly to take care of it,” said Rhea.

_ “Must be one of the attendants,” _ Byleth thought.

“Understood. Good day, Mother Rhea,” she said.

“Farewell, my child.” 

When the heavy door shut behind the archbishop, Byleth hadn’t realized how much tension she was holding in her shoulders as it dissipated in relief. She was overjoyed that her plan had somehow worked, yet couldn't rid herself of the overwhelming guilt that crept up on her. She sat back down at the table and sipped absentmindedly at her tea, which had gone cold and bitter as the sugar sank to the bottom.

There was also the puzzling matter of what Rhea let slip in her anger. What did she mean, that the crests and Relics were “stolen” from the goddess? According to scripture, the crests as well as the Heroes’ Relics were bestowed upon the Ten Elites by the goddess herself, as a gift to help fight dark forces that threatened to overtake Fódlan.

_ “Perhaps this is yet another clue needed in uncovering the truth behind everything that’s going on,” _ she thought to herself. 

“Lady Byleth. Are ya finished?” the young boy’s voice startled Byleth, pulling her from the world of her inner thoughts.

“Ah, um, yes...” she stammered, handing the tea cup to the dark-haired boy.

“Thanks,” he said busying himself with tidying up the room with vigor.

She figured this boy must be Cyril, but Byleth was taken aback by how young he was. To see such a child working like an adult rendered her uncomfortable. She silently took her leave, paying no mind to how rudely she scurried away from the room.

* * *

The morning of the sixth of the Great Tree Moon, 1180. Byleth prayed beneath the Saint statues, completing her morning ritual. She prayed for Macuil’s intelligence, for Indech’s strength, for Cethleann’s kindness, and Cichol’s wisdom. 

“Lady Byleth.” 

She turned toward the stern voice behind her, shifting her eyes from the visage of Saint Cichol to Seteth’s. 

“Good morning, Seteth,” she greeted.

“Good morning to you as well,” the green haired man said politely. 

“What can I do for you?”

“I’ve been informed that you have filled the vacant teaching position at the academy. As your first day of classes will be tomorrow, I am here to prepare you for teaching as quickly as possible. We do not have much time,” explained Seteth.

“Right now?” asked Byleth.

“Yes, right now. If you are too obviously inexperienced, you could risk tarnishing the image of our academy and the Church of Seiros,” Seteth said.

“If I must,” Byleth said, following Seteth to the cardinals’ room to be subjected to rigorous study for the entirety of the day.

While Byleth’s precious day off was spent listening to endless lectures about class structure, missions, managing students’ learning goals, guiding them in their prayers, and strictly reviewing the code of conduct for professors, she studied Seteth closely. He had worked as Rhea’s right hand for as long as Byleth could remember. He constantly made a point to remain dutiful and impersonal, his devotion to the goddess apparent. 

In just the past year, a young girl had suddenly appeared at the monastery next to him. Her name was Flayn, and she claimed to be Seteth’s younger sister and his only living family. Her appearance seemed so sudden and so puzzling. In the few conversations Byleth had with Flayn, she seemed so youthfully naive, but displayed bouts of wisdom gained only through the experience of aging. She also shared the unique green hair color of Rhea and Seteth. Byleth suspected the three of them to be somehow related. To her, it was yet another mystery of the Church of Seiros that waited to be unraveled.

* * *

The seventh of the Great Tree Moon. Byleth rose earlier than usual to head to the Blue Lions classroom, making sure everything was in line for classes. She was exhausted from the long day, and lost sleep from nervousness. 

An orange-haired girl was the first to arrive; Byleth was surprised at how early she was. She walked in to the room singing softly to herself and laying out her books with care. 

A blonde girl with a long braid and immaculate posture was next to arrive. She kept to herself as she picked a seat at the front of the room. In came a raven haired man with a ponytail and a scowl right after, followed closely by a chatty redhead with his uniform blazer hanging open-Byleth wondered if it might have been against dress code.

Two other students filtered in-a meek looking boy with freckles and a long-haired young woman with an elegant shawl around her shoulders. To be in charge of so many students should have intimidated Byleth, but she felt strangely at ease. She paid no mind to the rest of the pupils flooding in to the classroom until she saw him.

Dimitri walked in to the classroom chatting with a tall man with white hair. His uniform stood out with a royal blue cape pinned to his shoulder, indicating him as the leader of the house. His golden bangs framed his face elegantly, and his blue eyes shone as he smiled at his friend. She felt a small flutter of nervous delight in her stomach, but consciously reminded herself to keep focused on her duties at hand. When Dimitri caught a glimpse of her, his eyes widened and he nearly stopped in his tracks. In the same second he was caught off-guard, he immediately resumed his composure and took his seat in the classroom. 

The bell clanged melodically, signaling the beginning of class. Byleth took a deep breath, and cleared her throat loudly; the quiet chatter that blanketed the room slowly quieted.

“Good morning, Blue Lions. My name is Byleth Eisner. I have been appointed as your new professor,” she announced. A buzz erupted among the class. The red haired boy wore a wide smirk, his arms crossed behind his head.

“Like, our permanent professor?” Byleth heard the orange haired girl whispered. 

“Ahem!” Byleth commanded the attention of her class. “I know it might be surprising, but we aren’t going to dwell on it any longer. To open, let us go around the room and introduce ourselves, along with sharing or goals for the year at the Officers Academy. I realize you may have already endured similar introductory activities, but your cooperation is appreciated. We’ll start here at the front,” said Byleth, motioning to the front table. 

“My name is Annette Fantine Dominic, from Fhirdiad in the Kingdom. I really want to use my experience at the academy to further hone my magic skills and learn all kinds of other stuff too!” the orange haired girl said, her smile and cheery demeanor infectious. 

“My name is Ingrid Brandl Galatea, from House Galatea. I hope to use what I learn at the Officers Academy to model the perfect knight.” 

“I am Ashe Ubert. Lord Lonato is my adoptive father. I’m here to learn the skills necessary to prove myself!” 

“My name is Mercedes von Martritz. I hope to become a well-rounded person worthy of serving the goddess!” 

“I’m Sylvain Jose Gautier. Above all, I’m hoping to make  _ good _ friends with all my classmates!” 

“Felix Hugo Fraldarius. I’m here for a challenge.”

“My name is Dedue. I am simply here to better serve His Highness.” 

“I am Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, prince of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. I hope my time at the academy is an enriching experience that will allow me to better serve the Kingdom as its future ruler,” Dimitri introduced himself with a deep bow. Byleth felt her pulse quicken in response-it felt almost like a dream. His spiel sounded thoroughly rehearsed, but his voice was bold and assured.

“Excellent. I am delighted to meet each one of you,” said Byleth once each student had completed their introductions. “Now, our first order of business will be a series of aptitude tests to determine your specific goals. There will be both a written and physical portion of the exam that will be all-encompassing, so please do your best. 

Byleth found a wide array of expertise among her students. Children raised in Faerghus were generally trained with a focus on hand-to-hand combat as well as battle on horseback, but many showed a great aptitude for both faith and reason based magic. Even for those who rejected the idea, she sensed hidden talents beneath the surface of many of her pupils-Felix, for example, who showed no interest in magic, reason, flying, cavalry or even tactical planning, displayed an uncanny promise for black magic. Although Byleth had no intentions of forcing budding talents upon her students initially, she made deliberate note of each one she noticed.

***

The rigorous day exhausted both professor and students, and each one was thankful when the bell rang at the end of the day. After dismissing her class and bidding each a farewell, Byleth slumped in her desk at the front of the room as they all shuffled out, staring at her mountain of paperwork with dread.

**And you get to do it all again tomorrow! You’re in WAY over your head, here.**

Dimitri suddenly appeared in the doorway, announcing his presence with a gentle clearing of his throat.

“Hello, Dimitri. What can I do for you?” said Byleth.

“Well, Professor,” Dimitri emphasized the title, as if savoring the words on his tongue. “I suppose you could start by explaining how you just happened to come to lead our class?” His words were not threatening or angry, but Byleth could sense an edge to them.

“The Officers Academy was in desperate need last minute, so the duty fell to me,” she said simply. 

**Lying again? Unbelievable.**

“Will this arrangement only be temporary, then?” asked Dimitri, taking a seat across from her at the desk.

“No.” 

“Really? I see,” he said, swallowing a lump in his throat. The two were happy to be in each other’s company, yet there was still a gap to be bridged between them in the silence that lingered as they struggled to reconnect.

“I’m glad to be with you again, Dimitri. I know this arrangement isn’t ideal for us to be equals, but I hope we still have room to be friends again,” said Byleth.

“I feel much the same, Byleth. Please forgive me if I’ve seemed distant. As you know, much has transpired since we last met. I am afraid I have changed a lot, and not for the better. I suppose I was...scared. Of what you might think of me now,” Dimitri said mournfully in return, his eyes breaking contact with hers.

“I would not turn away from you so easily,” she said. “Please feel free to speak freely with me when we are together, but do not force yourself if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Yes...and please, the same goes for you, as well. We have a lot of catching up to do,” Dimitri replied. As he moved to reach his hand out to hers, a voice interrupted them.

“Well, what have we here?” Jeralt said, appearing in the doorway.

“Captain Jeralt, good evening!” Dimitri said nervously, scrambling to rise from his seat at Byleth’s desk.

“Good to see you again, kid,” said the captain, offering a warm handshake to the prince. He quickly turned his attention over to his daughter.

“As for you, missy. What in the goddess’s name are you doing?” said Jeralt quietly, leaning over her desk. 

“Father, I…” Byleth was at a loss for words-she was not used to her father taking such a confrontational tone to her.

“It’s like you’re asking to be punished by Rhea,” he said.

“But Mother Rhea is the one who approved me to take the position!” Byleth insisted. 

“Oh really? Cuz she wants to see you in the Tomb, right now. And we both know that is  _ not _ a good sign,” Jeralt retorted.

Dimitri couldn’t help but overhear the situation, but elected to remain silent. He felt a nervous swirl in his stomach, however, at the foreboding urgency in which Jeralt delivered his message.

“I see,” Byleth said, gritting her teeth. “I suppose I have no choice but to go.” 

“I...I have to come with you. Maybe I could talk to her, before Seteth comes to take you to her,” said Jeralt, more to himself than anyone else. 

“I can face it. I’ve gotten a lot better at handling it,” she tried to comfort her father as she put on a confident front.

“Prince Dimitri,” Jeralt said, having forgotten the young man was still present. “Perhaps you’d better scurry off.” 

“Yes sir. But, please, is there anything I can do to help?” he asked worriedly. 

“Frankly, no, but the offer is appreciated,” said Jeralt. 

“I see. Farewell then,” Dimitri said, feeling powerless as he walked out of the classroom. So many things puzzled him as he walked straight to his private quarters, skipping supper after having lost his appetite. 

_ “Why did Jeralt and Byleth sound so frightened of Archbishop Rhea?” _ he thought to himself. Thinking back to his time at the monastery, he realized he knew next to nothing about the young archbishop and her life in the church-the mystery of the “voice” she mentioned after her fit at the training grounds so many years ago was never explained in detail to him. Back then, she had seemed wary of Lady Rhea, but Dimitri in his childish obliviousness chalked it up to Rhea being something of a strict parent. But Jeralt and Byleth’s mannerisms when speaking of her displayed an emotion Dimitri knew all too well-fear.

***

“Here I am, Mother Rhea. You called for me?” said Byleth as she arrived at the tomb. Rhea, in a simple white gown, looked at her expressionlessly.

“Welcome, child. Some time has passed since we have met like this,” she said.

“Yes, I suppose so,” Byleth said. She looked down at the long stone staircase that descended into the array of caskets below them-an unrecognizable device lay on the floor.

“Byleth. What was the real reason that you wanted so desperately to teach in the Officers Academy?” asked Rhea point blank.

**Haha! I was hoping she’d find out,** Sothis said.

“I apologize, Mother Rhea. The truth is, I longed to be near more people of my own age. I have felt isolated here at the monastery,” said Byleth. Years of experience with the archbishop had taught her that feigning ignorance did nothing to help her case.

“Is that the true reason?” asked Rhea, tracing a finger over the arm of the throne.

“Yes. I was just seeking companionship.” 

“I am sorry you felt that way. Please follow me, child,” said Rhea, leading Byleth toward the staircase.

“I heard that Prince Dimitri is the house leader of the Blue Lions,” she said as they slowly made their way down.

“It seems that he is.” Byleth felt her stomach sink with each step they took.

“What a twist of fate, hm?” the archbishop’s voice was sickly sweet.

“We do not have much in common anymore,” said Byleth. 

“Mm. A shame,” Rhea said, stopping before the foreign contraption as they arrived. 

On closer inspection, Byleth found the device was in truth a large tank filled with water. It had a hinged metal door, and the water inside appeared floaty and weightless.

“What is this, Mother Rhea?” she asked.

“This is something I’ve been working on. A new method, to help you drown out the screams of the waking world so that you may hear the goddess’s sweet voice,” said Rhea enigmatically.

“I don’t understand. What do I need to do?” Byleth asked.

“Just lie down. All is well,” Rhea instructed. The archbishop’s successor hesitated.

“I won’t repeat myself,” the archbishop added. Byleth had no choice but to comply. 

The water inside the tank was room temperature and felt unnaturally buoyant as Byleth laid her back down on the water’s surface. She swallowed a lump in her throat as Rhea slowly shut the heavy metal door. 

“I’ll be back for you soon, my child,” she said softly. 

Then, darkness. Reality seemed to melt away as she sensed nothingness-her mind grasped for something to hear, something to see, something to feel, yet she was weightless in the pitch black tank, hearing nothing but her own blood coursing through her veins. Before long, Sothis appeared. 

**This is pretty interesting, huh?**

“I suppose that’s one word for it.”

**I like it. Things are much clearer here. Your mind is less foggy. I’ve been longing for a chance to speak with you.**

“I wish I could say the same.”

**Aw, don’t be like that! You know I’m not going anywhere. And trust me, I want things to be different just as much as you do,** Sothis said sarcastically. 

“I see. Since we’re speaking freely, may I ask you a question?” 

**What’s got you feeling so bold?** She laughed.

“I guess I’ve done some growing up. Is that a yes or a no?” 

**Depends. I’ll decide whether or not I want to answer,** said Sothis. Byleth was surprised at how well their encounter seemed to be going so far.

“Very well, then. As much as I want to know, I won’t ask you who or what you are. Instead, I’ll ask you this-what is your goal here, with me? Why can’t you leave me, and continue forward on your own?” asked Byleth. Over the years, she had formed her own guess, but wanted to test the waters to see if Sothis would confirm it or not. 

**Hm…** Sothis hesitated.

“I suppose that is a refusal, then.” 

**Gods, would you give me time to speak!? So annoying!**

“Sorry.” 

**I want to live again.**

“I see. And you need me to do so?” 

**Precisely.**

“Because you have no body of your own, and you need mine instead?” Byleth urged her to reveal the truth.

**Aren’t you a smart one?** Sothis said sarcastically.

“Why haven’t you gone ahead and done it already?” 

**I need your cooperation. Your will and mine must be one.** Sothis said truthfully. 

“But what if that never happens? What will you do?” 

**It’ll happen, don’t you worry.** she said confidently. 

“That’s quite confident. Perhaps my will is stronger than you can overcome,” Byleth knew the words would anger the girl, but she was so close to getting some answers she needed.

**You wanna see who’s stronger, then?**

Sothis suddenly lunged at Byleth, a clawed hand wrapping around her throat and pushing her into the water. The water around her was a vast, endless ocean, and she could feel herself sinking further and further down. She struggled to hold her breath, the threat of drowning closing in on her. She mustered all the strength she could manage and kicked Sothis away, swimming up to the surface. She inhaled desperately, but was immediately pulled back under the surface. 

She remembered her father’s advice he had repeated to her before during her encounters with Sothis. 

_ “Ground yourself, ground yourself,” _ she repeated over and over again in her mind. The water consuming her gradually disappeared, giving her a chance to breathe and use another technique imparted to her by Jeralt. She imagined a heron’s feather before her in the darkness. 

“Breath as though you are the only one keeping the feather afloat. Focus on nothing else but the feather,” she heard his voice say. Sothis’s screams were muffled as Byleth imagined the feather slowly floating up and down, her pulse slowing. Soon, both Sothis and the feather disappeared altogether.

***

_ A dream. A woman she had encountered once before stood in a familiar meadow. Despite Byleth’s fear of the woman bearing Sothis’s face, she approached.  _

_ “Who are you?” she asked plainly.  _

_ The woman was silent as her face scrunched up and her eyes welled with tears. Despite bearing an identical visage to Sothis, her expression of pain and vulnerability was foreign to Byleth. She reached her hand out to Byleth, silently asking for help. When Byleth reached her hand out in response, the woman and the world around her dissipated like sand brushed away by the wind. _

_ *** _

She awoke to Jeralt pulling her from the tank, the sudden rush of returning to the real world flooding Byleth with sensory overload. She croaked something incoherently, grasping at her father’s arms.

“Don’t worry, By. You don’t have to say a word,” he comforted her, quickly carrying her up the stairs to the exit of the Holy Tomb. She had no sense of how much time had passed.

“Jeralt, let me speak with her for a moment! It’s important!” she heard Rhea plead as her vision faded in and out of blurriness. 

“Please, Your Grace. That’s  _ quite _ enough for tonight. Arrange for tomorrow,” Jeralt replied, showing surprising defiance to the archbishop.

“I’m taking you to Manuela. You need a lot of rest,” the father said to Byleth, holding her close.

_ “But...I have class tomorrow,” _ Byleth thought pathetically to herself, losing the battle against the sleep that overtook her.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please follow me on twitter! :D twitter.com/itswingberry
> 
> (i promise one day i'll get better at ending chapters A;FJJ;LAJSD)


	4. Depths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! This chapter got a little bit long! :O  
> Thanks again to everyone who has supported this little brainchild of mine thus far. Kudos and comments are always appreciated! ;w; 
> 
> AND BY THE WAY! Despite what this story may tell you, I'm a HUGE Sothis fan! Me and a friend are organizing a Sothis week, please follow and fill out the interest check!! twitter.com/SothisWeek  
> https://twitter.com/SothisWeek/status/1226306828197384192?s=20
> 
> Please check out this art that inspired me! https://twitter.com/ginsays/status/1185685340788416513?s=20

* * *

  
The eighth of the Great Tree Moon of Imperial Year 1180. Dimitri drug his way to the Blue Lions classroom, suffering from his inability to sleep the night before. Worry and questions from the previous evening had kept him awake. He wondered what Rhea could have wanted with Byleth, and why the normally carefree Jeralt seemed so frightened. He did not even have an opportunity to ask Byleth herself. The archbishop seemed to have eyes everywhere; even from his childhood, he recalled her unnerving emerald gaze. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found Byleth seated at her desk in the classroom as he arrived. He took his seat at the table second-closest to the front--close, but not too close. 

As he snuck glances at Byleth, whose head was buried in paperwork, Dimitri noticed heavy dark circles under her eyes. The bell then rang and Dimitri averted his eyes, so as not to alert his professor that he had been staring. 

“Good morning, everyone. Let’s begin. I am pleased to announce that we have been assigned our first mission, scheduled for the end of the month. A mock battle will be held here at Garreg Mach between the three houses, as a test of skill. It will be a great opportunity to showcase the class’s skill,” Byleth announced to the class, her voice noticeably nasally and stuffy. 

“ _She sounds...kind of cute…”_ Dimitri couldn’t help thinking to himself, despite his concern for her.

The agenda for the rest of the day included lectures, written work, and hands-on training equally; Byleth believed strongly in balance. Each student was slowly getting a feel for each other’s strengths and learning styles. Annette showed exceptional intelligence in lectures, yet stumbled over herself during training. Felix was the opposite, detesting lectures to the point of disruption, yet thriving on the training grounds. Some pupils were meek, and some applied themselves perhaps a little too strongly. Byleth certainly had her hands full with such a wide array of personalities.

As class was dismissed at the end of the day, Byleth asked Dimitri to stay a few minutes after class.

“Of course, Professor!” he said, trying to ignore Sylvain’s goofy wink as he left with the rest of the other students.

“What can I do for you?” he asked politely, sitting down at her desk.

“The academy is hosting a luncheon with each professor and the house leaders, to be held a couple of days from now on the twelfth. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t have anything else planned,” said Byleth, letting out a sneeze and looking nearly overcome with exhaustion.

“Yes, of course I’ll be there. I look forward to it!” said Dimitri, although he was apprehensive about meeting Edelgard again. 

“ _It seems this school year is to be full of fateful encounters_ ,” the prince thought to himself. 

“Glad to hear it. I won’t keep you any longer,” said Byleth, but Dimitri couldn’t bring himself to move. 

“Byleth,” he said quietly. “Is everything alright?” 

“I suppose so. I’m just feeling a bit ill,” she answered.

“It seems to have come on quite suddenly,” Dimitri said skeptically.

“Doesn’t it always?” she retorted. 

“Heh, I suppose you’re right,” he said. A beat of silence.

“W-well, I don’t want to impede your work, so I’ll be on my way,” he said. 

“Say, Dimitri, how do you plan to spend the day off this week?” asked Byleth suddenly, looking up from her work. 

“Oh! I suppose I have nothing in particular planned,” Dimitri stammered, caught slightly off-guard. 

“Perhaps, then, you’d like to meet in my study for tea? Perhaps at twilight on the thirteenth?”

“I’d be delighted. What’s the occasion?” asked Dimitri.

“I just want a chance to talk to you,” Byleth admitted, making Dimitri’s heart flutter. “But if anyone asks, we are simply reviewing our planned strategies for the mock battle,” she added, the faintest smirk crossing her face.

“Yes, of course,” said Dimitri with a smile. “I look forward to it.”

“Me too.”

“On that note, I really should be off. I’m sure you have your own pile of work to attend to,” said Dimitri, gathering his belongings.

“Unfortunately, you are correct,” said Byleth.

“Farewell, Professor. I’ll see you soon,” Dimitri said his goodbyes and returned to his quarters.

****

Dimitri remained in his room in solitude as he finished his studies, having no interest in leaving. Even the idea of going to the dining hall wasn’t appealing, even though he had not eaten at all that day. A knock at the door. 

In spite of his efforts to push through his work, he felt his body giving in to the weight of lack of sleep and nourishment. He wordlessly dressed himself for bed, not caring enough to bathe before his rest. He lay down, snuffing out the candle. As silent darkness flooded the room, so too did his racing thoughts invade his mind.

He had a problem. He was _happy_. He got along well with his classmates. He enjoyed learning new things. He was reconnecting with a dear friend he previously thought lost. The monastery provided an enriching and peaceful living space.

_But he didn’t deserve it._

So said the familiar faces that materialized in the pitch black room around him. Glenn’s face stared at him judgingly; the prince realized how much Felix’s scowl of disgust had grown to look like his brother’s.

“What are you _doing_ , Dimitri? Let me know when your little game of play-pretend is over,” said Glenn bitterly. 

“I’m sorry,” was all Dimitri could whisper.

He recoiled when his father’s face laid his disapproving eyes on him. 

“You are putting on a pathetic display. How could you ever live up to our family name this way? Live up to me?” King Lambert said harshly. 

Dimitri felt tears sting his eyes as he covered them with the heels of his palms, a splitting headache overcoming him.

“You’re right, you’re right, _you’re right_ ,” he chanted as though his words were a spell to exorcise the phantoms that tormented him. “I will do better, I swear it! So please…”

But it was not enough to appease them. Glenn and Lambert were soon joined by an entire army of different faces-the faces of souls begging to be saved, to be delivered from the prison of eternal torment to which their regrets chained them. Who were they to turn to, if not him? 

The pain in his skull swelled relentlessly. His heart pounded wildly, and as he became unable to manage it any longer, the ghostly faces faded from view.

* * *

The twelfth of the Great Tree Moon, 1180. Dimitri was the second-to-last to arrive at the dining hall for the house leaders luncheon. He felt his pulse quicken as he spotted Edelgard sitting next to Professor Manuela. He recognized her unique, bright purple eyes, but her hair was a completely different color than in their youth. He remembered seeing another girl in the library with the same shade of white hair-perhaps it was simply a fashion trend?

“Hello, Dimitri. You’ll be sitting right here,” said Byleth as he approached, motioning to the spot next to her. 

“Looks like grilled herring is on the menu for today. Do try to restrain your slovenly eating habits, hm, Manuela?” Hanneman teased.

“Oh, whatever! It’s _this_ little angel you’ll have to worry about, anyway,” said Manuela, motioning to Byleth, who was dressed in a more casual frock instead of her usual Seiros robes.

“Even I know how to show restraint, Manuela,” Byleth quipped back, clearly accustomed to her colleagues’ bantering. 

A young man with curly dark hair walked briskly through the entrance of the dining hall, making a beeline to the table. Judging from the golden cape around his shoulder, Dimitri deduced him to be Claude von Riegan, the house leader of the Golden Deer. He took his seat next to Professor Hanneman just as the mid-day bell rang. 

“Almost late, Claude,” Hanneman said, to which the young man flashed a toothy grin. 

“But I wasn’t, was I?” he replied.

“Well, now that we’re all present, let’s go ahead and formally introduce ourselves. Let’s not be shy and say a little bit about ourselves. I’ll start- I’m Manuela Casagranda, professor of the Black Eagles house. I’m a retired songstress from the Mittelfrank Opera Company, as well as a physician, so I have quite a varied background!” 

“I am Edelgard von Hresvelg, heir apparent of the Adrestian Empire. As the leader of the Black Eagles, I hope I can help guide our class to grow to be self-sufficient leaders in our country.”

“My name is Hanneman. I’ve been a crest scholar and professor at Garreg Mach for about fifteen years, and I aim to show our students that there is something new to learn each day.” 

“Claude von Riegan, grandson to Duke Riegan of the Leicester Alliance. Truthfully, I’m something of a new noble, so hopefully my unconventional background can bring some new perspective to high society.” 

“I am Byleth Eisner, daughter of the Captain of the Knights of Seiros and successor to Archbishop Rhea. As the professor of the Blue Lions, I hope I can help my students achieve their goals, no matter what those may be.”

“And I am Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, prince of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. At the Officers Academy, I aim to learn the skills necessary to bring stability and greatness back to the Kingdom,” Dimitri said formally, looking to Edelgard. He was disappointed when he saw no signs of recognition on her face. 

“So, Professor Byleth, ‘helping students to achieve their goals, no matter what those goals may be’? Isn’t that dangerous?” Claude asked boldly as introductions finished and lunch was served. 

“Why do you say that?” replied Byleth, already busying herself with her meal.

“What if you have a student whose goals are something you don’t approve of? What if their goals would _hurt_ other people?” he asked curiously, lacing his fingers together. 

“It’s my job to teach, and that includes teaching students right from wrong. But sometimes their “right and wrong” and mine will be completely different, and I can’t change that. They’ll have to answer for their own actions, not me,” Byleth explained.

“Well said, Professor!” Dimitri interjected, praising her wisdom. 

“Also,” she added, her mouth half full of food. “If I’m a thief, then so are you.” 

“Excuse me? I’m afraid I don’t follow,” Claude said, confused.

“If I’m a thief, then so are you,” she repeated. “Constantly assuming the worst from others only reveals your own ill intentions. So I’d keep that in mind if you’re trying to make a good impression.”

Edelgard smirked, and Manuela’s eyes widened slightly. 

“Well, Teach, didn’t mean to ruffle your feathers. Just trying to spark a conversation,” said Claude, throwing his hands up.

“And aren’t we having one?” Byleth responded, making stoic eye contact with him.

 _“I don’t think she realizes how abrasive she sounds…”_ Dimitri thought to himself.

“Now, now, Byleth, no need to start something,” Manuela chided quietly.

“Wouldn’t you say speaking freely is important, though?” Edelgard chimed in.

“To an extent, yes,” Manuela replied.

“On that note, Professor Byleth, I’m curious-how did you end up in your position? You’re destined to one day hold the most powerful position in the Church of Seiros, and arguably in all of Fódlan,” said Edelgard, her confident voice holding a pressuring edge.

“I suppose I was born into it. I don’t really have a good answer for you,” said Byleth.

“Interesting. But you are not Rhea’s child, are you?” Edelgard pressed further.

“I am not,” Byleth said.

“I see. I wonder how she came to choose you,” said Edelgard. 

“Wow, Your Highness. Didn’t think you’d be one for gossip,” Claude interjected.

“Gossip? Hmph,” Edelgard scoffed.

“My, you little dears are quite a handful this year!” Manuela said with a laugh.

“Indeed. But an inquisitive mind is always welcome in my book, too,” Hanneman said.

A small period of silence passed as the leaders and professors enjoyed their food, lest it get cold.

“Say, Edelgard, how have things been faring for you in the Empire? Quite well, I hope,” said Dimitri.

“Always busy, that much is for sure. How fares the Kingdom, Prince Dimitri?” she emphasized the title, as though she were offended by the familiarity with which Dimitri addressed her. 

“Quite busy as well, I’m afraid,” Dimitri replied, hiding his hurt feelings. 

“You each need to make sure you’re preparing sufficiently for the mock battle,” said Hanneman to the house leaders. “It will be your first formal impression on the Officers Academy and the monastery.”

“I have no doubts the Black Eagles will secure the victory,” Edelgard said confidently.

“Careful, Princess. Arrogance like that could ultimately be your downfall,” Claude teased. 

“Arrogance is simply misplaced confidence, and I’m sorry to say that mine is far from misplaced,” said Edelgard, visibly irritated.

“Now, now, let’s not cross the line of friendly competition,” said Manuela.

“Nevertheless, training is of utmost importance for all of us,” Dimitri said, trying to help diffuse the rising tensions.

“No need to state the obvious, Prince Dimitri,” said Edelgard. 

“You know, Edelgard. You and Claude really are interesting. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone as openly wary of others as you two are,” said Byleth. 

“Excuse me?” said Edelgard. 

“A little cordiality in your interactions would do you well. Not everyone is out to get you,” said Byleth. 

_“She always speaks her mind it seems, for better or for worse…”_ thought Dimitri.

“Yes, Professor,” Edelgard and Claude both mumbled. 

The lunch was cut short by the bell ringing; it was time to return to classes.

“Well, that’s our cue. It was so nice getting to know everyone,” Manuela said politely, offering a bow.

“The feeling is mutual. The classes are in good hands with you all,” said Hanneman. 

“Likewise,” said Byleth shortly, bowing.

The party exchanged pleasant farewells and went their separate ways. 

“I think that went pretty well,” said Byleth nonchalantly as she and Dimitri walked back to class together.

“You believe so? Some pretty heated words were exchanged,” said Dimitri.

“Really? I was just enjoying some deeper conversation. I hope they don’t think I’m mad at them, if that’s the case,” said Byleth. She really could be quite oblivious at times. 

“I should hope they would not be that sensitive,” Dimitri said.

“How are you feeling? You were pretty quiet during lunch,” asked Byleth.

“Oh, I’m quite alright. Unlike the others, I simply believe that listening is just as important as speaking,” said Dimitri. In truth, he was still hurt that Edelgard forgot about him; the way Byleth tilted her head at him showed she saw through his ruse. Luckily, Dimitri had honed his skills in pretending everything was alright, even when those around were watching closely as he fell apart.

* * *

The thirteenth of the Great Tree Moon, 1180. Byleth tidied up the documents strewn about her desk as the sun sank below the horizon. She prepared a pot of mint tea, the refreshing scent filling the room. Her first official week of teaching was not an easy one- despite her initial talent for it, interacting with so many different personalities each day was draining. And while being a professor helped further her own training and studies simultaneously, she still had church services to attend to as well. Her episode in the Holy Tomb with Rhea set her back too-she remembered the night it happened. She awoke in Manuela’s office, shivering and sneezing.

“You poor thing,” she had said. “Jeralt told me you fell into the fishing pond. How clumsy!” 

Jeralt and Byleth hid Rhea’s actions from everyone at the monastery. At times, she wanted more than anything to spill the truth to Hanneman, Manuela, or Seteth-who she had grown up around at Garreg Mach. She wondered whose side they would be on if they were to learn the truth. But Byleth knew she couldn’t-Rhea was capable of anything, and there was the possibility of the entire structure of the Church of Seiros collapsing if such a scandal surrounding the archbishop were to emerge.

And despite it all, Byleth couldn’t deny the loyalty and care she harbored toward Rhea. She knew almost nothing about the archbishop or her goals, but Rhea was a part of her life for as long as her own father. On some nights, Rhea had told Byleth that she loved her as though she were her own, and sang lullabies to lull her to sleep after praying together. On the most difficult nights, Byleth repeated those words to herself over and over again.

A knock on the door jolted her from her musings; she hadn’t realized how she slouched over her desk, lost in thought.

“Good evening, Professor,” greeted Dimitri as she opened the door.

“Hello, Dimitri. Come on in,” she said. “You’ll have to excuse me. I lost track of time, so things are still a bit messy,” she added, motioning for him to sit down at the table.

“No need to apologize, I don’t mind at all!” said Dimitri.

Byleth scurried to clear off her desk and set a teacup out for each of them. She wondered if, seeing how Dimitri was clad fully in his uniform, if she was underdressed in her casual training clothes. 

“It’s mint tea. I wasn’t sure what your favorite was, but I hope you’re okay with it,” said Byleth, pouring them each a cup. 

**Have mercy. Wake me when this mind-numbing ordeal is over.**

“ _Good. Maybe you’ll leave me alone for awhile, then,”_ Byleth thought to herself.

“It smells wonderful,” said Dimitri with a smile. “And if you’re asking, my favorite is chamomile.” 

“I’ll remember that,” replied Byleth. “How are you acclimating to your new life here?”

“Quite well, I’d say. I really do enjoy it here. To be honest, it’s a welcome change from the environment I came from,” said Dimitri.

“I imagine so. Especially after...everything that’s happened,” said Byleth, hesitating.

“Y-yes…” said Dimitri.

“I was terrified when I heard the news, y’know. Before I knew that you were the only one who survived. I couldn't accept that those last few minutes in the cathedral six years ago would be the last time I saw you,” said Byleth, feeling the sting her nose that preceded tears.

“Byleth, I...I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say,” said Dimitri. 

“You don’t need to say anything, it’s okay. This shouldn’t be about me,” Byleth said.

“You know, I kept your letter all those years. It’s a funny story-my father tried to intercept it, but it somehow found its way into my hands in spite of that,” said Dimitri. 

“Is that true? I’m glad. I was a bit worried you had forgotten about me or something,” said Byleth. 

“My deepest apologies for never returning the favor. I departed for Duscur shortly after I received it and…” the prince trailed off. 

“It’s okay, Dimitri. I forgive you,” said Byleth. “I’m sorry about everything that happened. I know there’s nothing I can do that would make it better.” 

Dimitri paused for a moment-after losing his parents and everyone dear to him in the Tragedy, condolences offered to him were few and far between. The death of his entire family left nobody in the Kingdom who cared about him, who watched over him-Rodrigue was busy attending to Glenn’s posthumous matters and caring for Felix in the aftermath, and Gustave had mysteriously fled Faerghus as well. Dedue had been his only companion for four years; for another to reach out their hand in comfort was a foreign but welcome feeling for Dimitri. 

“I do not think I will ever get over it. Watching my own father succumb to the infernal flames, laying my eyes upon the grotesque picture of my citizens and comrades, lifeless and mangled, I…” he trailed off, clutching his head. 

“Dimitri, are you okay?” said Byleth. 

“Please, forgive me...just a bit of a headache. Let’s not dwell on this any longer. Listen to me babbling on about myself!” said Dimitri, assuming the cheery princely manners that had been so heavily ingrained in him over the years. “How have you been faring?” 

“Well, things have been much the same. Aside from the whole ‘professor’ thing,” Byleth replied. 

“Ah, I see. I’m sure it took some serious persuasive skills on your part to get Rhea on board with it,” said Dimitri. 

“Perhaps. But as far as _you’re_ concerned, I was chosen for this position and had no problems at all.” Byleth chuckled. 

“Yes, yes, of course!” said Dimitri, playing along. 

“Lady Rhea expects a lot of you. I’m sure it's a lot of pressure, trying to live up to that,” said Dimitri, sympathizing, remembering how he struggled to fulfill his father’s expectations of him.

“Trying and failing,” Byleth said with a sigh.

“Since we’re already being so candid, I wanted to ask if you remembered back then, at the training grounds. That night as children, when we were to spar, and then you...” said Dimitri, waiting for her to fill in the blanks. 

“Yes. I remember it well. I never really explained much to you, did I?” said Byleth. She didn’t want to reveal anything that would further muddy his opinion of her, but if they were to grow closer, he deserved to know the truth. 

“Please, do not feel pressured into talking about anything you are not comfortable with,” said Dimitri.

“No, it’s alright. I have been silent about the matter for too long,” said Byleth.

“As long as you are comfortable,” Dimitri said.

“The simplest way to explain it, is that there is someone else living in my body with me. She is constantly fighting me for control. I think she wants me to disappear altogether,” said Byleth. “Over the years, my father has helped me with techniques and meditations to manage her influence over me, but even still…” Byleth surprised even herself as she opened the floodgates of her thoughts.

“I see…” said Dimitri.

“I know it’s unbelievable, but it’s the truth,” said Byleth. She thought maybe she should have kept things to herself after all.

“No, I absolutely believe you. More than you know,” said Dimitri, reminded of his own demons that visited him at night.

“Oh. Well, I’m glad then,” Byleth said.

“You said ‘her’. The voice belongs to a woman?” asked Dimitri, curious to know more.

“A young girl’s, more like. She calls herself Sothis. I see her, too. In my dreams,” said Byleth, cautious not to mention her encounters with Rhea.

“What does she look like?” Dimitri asked.

“Well, her hair and eyes are green-like Mother Rhea’s, but a bit darker. It’s long and wild, and she wears a golden tiara. Her clothes look quite dated, and...actually, maybe it would be easier if I showed you,” said Byleth, rummaging through a drawer she usually kept locked. 

She pulled out a colored drawing of Sothis she created during her childhood originally meant to show Jeralt.

“It’s a bit crude, but this is what she looks like. Roughly,” said Byleth, showing the drawing to Dimitri. It showed her ancient regalia well enough, as well as her most notable feature.

“Are her ears truly pointed like this?” asked the prince.

“Yes, quite prominently. They make her look inhuman,” said Byleth. “It’s not mentioned very much in scripture, but Mother Rhea has often told me that there have always been factions that opposed the church. I’ve been thinking maybe Sothis has something to do with them,” Byleth explained.

“That is assuming Lady Rhea is telling you the truth. It seems there’s much to uncover here,” said Dimitri, to which Byleth met with silence.

“Oh, Byleth, I didn’t mean to disrespect you or Lady Rhea,” Dimitri apologized.

“No, you’re right. No offense taken. I just feel a bit guilty dragging you into my personal matters,” said Byleth.

“Please don’t apologize. I am not offering to help you out of obligation. I offer because I care about you,” said Dimitri, his cheeks immediately turning red.

“I...thank you, Dimitri. You know, my father has mentioned to me on more than one occasion that he wishes he had found a way to take me far, far away from Garreg Mach. From Fódlan, even. I’ve often wondered what my life would have been like. If Sothis would torture me as much. How enjoyable my days would be, filled with hunting, fishing, traveling...But if that had happened, I might have been led away from you. And for that reason alone, I am grateful that I stayed here at the monastery,” said Byleth, smiling genuinely through the heat she felt on her face. 

“I am grateful we had the opportunity to speak like this. For once, I feel like something in my life is going right,” said Dimitri, unable to restrain his wide smile. His speech upheld his eternal image of the perfect prince, but inside he felt more like a giddy schoolboy, struck with infatuation. 

“I know it’s not like me to talk so much. I apologize for speaking over you,” said Byleth.

“Not at all,” Dimitri said assuredly. “Say, Byleth. How long ago did you make this?” he added, looking back down at her artwork of Sothis.

“Why do you ask? It’s from my childhood,” she said. 

“I can tell. The details are nice, but the face...well, it’s quite funny to be honest!” he teased.

“Well, Prince Dimitri, you’re welcome to produce a recreation if you think you can do better!” she quipped back.

“Ha-ha! I only jest,” he said with a laugh.

Dimitri reached out his hand and laid it gently over her own, seeking closeness. The darkness of nightfall urged the two to bid farewell to each other eventually, lest rumors arise from their late night meeting. As the prince and future archbishop lay themselves to sleep for the night, they each took solitude in the peaceful silence they both were blessed with that night.

* * *

The thirtieth of the Great Tree Moon of 1180. A buzz rumbled throughout the Officers Academy from the students’ excitement for the mock battle. Each pupil was eager to prove themselves and help secure their house a victory. The Blue Lions were no exception, and they chatted amongst themselves on the march to the field.

Dimitri walked alongside Dedue and Mercedes, a ways behind their professor. She had done a remarkable job in balancing the class to ensure all aspects of combat were accurately represented amongst the students, while emphasizing their already existing talents. 

Annette and Mercedes, as previous students of the Academy of Magic in Fhirdiad, specialized in black and white magic respectively. Ashe was classed as an archer, while Felix was a sword fighter. Sylvain and Ingrid were chosen as the mounted fighters, assigned as a cavalier and pegasus knight. Dedue’s strength was put to good use as an axe brawler, while Dimitri wielded a lance on foot. Each student seemed content with their assignments.

“I wish we could see them in battle together. A shame Captain Jeralt is only overseeing the battle,” Dimitri heard Felix say behind them.

“That could be a scary sight! Despite her appearance, Professor Byleth is like an animal in battle. And with this new outfit of hers, she’s all that more dangerous,” said Sylvain. 

“You really can’t think about anything else, can you?” said Ingrid. It seemed not much had changed in their dynamic since their childhood.

Sylvain wasn’t the only student who took note of Byleth’s new attire, however. Wearing new corseted armor with shorts and black lace stockings covering her legs, peeks of her midriff and chest were bare. A grey cloak draped around her shoulders, and a pendant lay across her chest. It was definitely unconventional for a high ranking member of the church. Despite being initially flustered by her bold new outfit, Dimitri thought the ensemble suited Byleth perfectly.

The rules of the mock battle were simple-the last class standing would claim the victory. If a student remained disarmed or on the ground for thirty seconds consecutively, they would be forced to surrender. 

The classes were situated in a triangular formation in the field. Byleth’s proposed strategy was ambitious, but cautiously defensive. Planning to send her strongest units to the front lines to lure the other houses toward them, the Blue Lions would stay put until they received orders otherwise, which Byleth would give once the other house’s numbers had been thinned out. 

“You mean for us to take on two houses at once, Professor?’ Dimitri had questioned when she proposed the plan. Despite the reservations concerning her ambitious strategy, Byleth held full confidence in her students.

At the field, the three houses took their places, each house assuming their formations. Dimitri and Dedue took the front lines. 

“Let’s not allow recklessness to cost us the victory. Steel yourselves, everyone!” Byleth called out. The horn sounded, signaling the start of the battle.

What kept the Blue Lions afloat over the other houses was their patience. Byleth knew it was asking a lot for a group of rambunctious students to take such a defensive strategy for their first chance at combat, but as each class’s numbers dwindled, her plan of defense kept their numbers high. The Golden Deer were skilled, but were quickly eliminated under the combined might of both the Blue Lions and Black Eagles. As the fight progressed, Byleth’s class was no exception to defeat as the duels eliminated her students as well. Soon, she spotted Edelgard in the distance, quickly encroaching on her few remaining fighters. Deciding to take matters into her own hands, Byleth charged forward, making her intention of challenging Edelgard to a duel known.

“I’m going to make this count, Professor!” Edelgard exclaimed, brandishing her axe. 

She lunged forward with a vertical swing, which Byleth quickly dodged. Edelgard’s obvious strength in handling her weapon belied her small frame. She was as quick as she was strong, and was able to move behind Byleth with a fast parry. A blow from her heavy wooden axe to the back of the knee sent Byleth to the ground, a pained yell escaping from her throat. 

“Seems I caught you off-guard!” Edelgard exclaimed boastfully. “Is that all, Professor? Thirty more seconds and the victory is mine.”

But the sheer force of Edelgard’s attack had injured her greatly; Byleth had no doubt sustained a fracture. Fighting back was a lost cause. She groaned in frustration as the seconds ticked by, angry at herself for letting her class down while Sothis’s mocking laughter flooded her mind.

“Professor! Don’t give up!” a voice emerged from far in the distance. It was Dimitri, accompanied by Sylvain. The two had been defeated, but offered their professor their support all the same. 

As if his words were healing magic itself, Byleth leapt to her feet in a flash of light; a mysterious rune in a shape she had never seen glowed around her as the pain from her injury rapidly melted away. She tackled Edelgard to the ground, towering above her with no other weapon but her own body, pinning the young woman down in the grass below them. Edelgard, stunned from Byleth’s sudden recovery, couldn’t fight back. The horn call from the referee in the distance signaled Byleth’s victory-and thus, a win for the Blue Lions. 

“All right, that’s that! The winner of this mock battle is the Blue Lion house!” yelled Jeralt, riding into view, calling the end of the battle. 

Byleth’s internal feelings of both pride and uncertainty washed like a tide within her. She was proud of her class for taking the victory, and was elated to have proven herself to them. But what was the mysterious crest that suddenly activated, and how was it capable of healing her wound instantly? Edelgard looked at her with a puzzling blank stare. She couldn’t have been the only one who witnessed the event, and Byleth shuddered to think how many pairs of eyes had witnessed the ordeal. The white-haired girl quickly ran back to the rest of her class when Dimitri jogged up to them.

“We’ve won, Professor! It’s all thanks to you. Let’s go back and catch up with the rest of the class!” he said excitedly. 

“Mhm,” she mumbled as she trailed behind him, lost in thought. 

****

Although the mock battle had only taken up half of the regular school day, Byleth dismissed the Blue Lions as a reward for their well-earned victory. She strolled the halls of Garreg Mach, treating herself to a leisurely walk in between her constant pile of paperwork and her own studying material. 

“Professor! I’ve been looking for you!” came Dimitri’s voice from behind her. She was surprised but happy to see the prince walking up to her with Ashe and Dedue in tow.

“Hello, Dimitri, Ashe, Dedue. What can I do for you?” she asked cordially. 

“I was hoping we could all share a meal together. It could serve as both a victory celebration and a post-battle analysis. What do you think?” Dimitri proposed happily.

“I’m invited?” she asked, confused.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t you be?” said Dimitri. His kind words of acceptance filled Byleth with happiness.

“Well, I suppose I could spare some time. I’d love to,” she said coolly, letting the students lead the way.

****

The feast in the dining hall was full of rambunctious students and delicious food, the students riding the wave of happiness from the earlier battle. It seemed the joy extended to the other houses as well; despite some not being counted amongst the victors, everyone’s spirits were high.

Byleth sat between Dimitri and Mercedes, lost in the delicious feast spread out on the table, listening to the conversations at the table.

“I really was worried we wouldn’t make it there for awhile!” said Ashe.

“But we did, and that’s all that matters,” said Felix. 

“I’m just glad all our hard work paid off!” Mercedes said cheerfully. 

“Absolutely. We have Professor Byleth to thank, as well. We couldn’t have made it without her astute instruction,” Dimitri added, smiling at her.

“You flatter me. You guys did all the work,” said Byleth.

“He’s right, though! You _are_ the one who won the finishing duel, after all,” Ingrid agreed.

“I’m glad I was one of the few who was able to see your victory,” said Dimitri, addressing Byleth as though there were no one else in the room.

“I witnessed it too, and I have to ask, Professor-you never mentioned having a crest, but it activated there at the last second. What crest was it? I’ve never seen it before,” said Sylvain curiously. 

Byleth swallowed; it seemed her hope of escaping the meal without mention of the strange event that transpired at the mock battle was lost.

“I apologize, but I’m not sure of it myself. I have been studying different types of high level magic, so perhaps it could have been a spell instead,” said Byleth, trying to deflect. She looked to Dimitri; he looked curious for her answer but concerned about her discomfort.

“A crest? You didn’t mention having one, Professor!” said Annette. 

“I thought crests only belonged to nobles,” Ashe said, puzzled. 

**They’re like headless chickens, running their mouths aimlessly. How stupid.**

“I still don’t believe that I have one. Wouldn’t I have known earlier?” Byleth said quietly.

“Nah, it’s gotta be a crest. That whack to your knee was pretty bad, but it healed immediately. Trust me,” said Sylvain, his arms crossed. 

“If I might, it seems this talk is making the professor uncomfortable,” Dedue interrupted matter-of-factly. Dedue was an emotionally intuitive young man, even if his appearance suggested otherwise. 

“You’re right. I hope you’ll accept our apologies, Professor Byleth,” Dimitri agreed, a few mumbled “sorry”s echoing across their table. 

“No, it’s okay everyone. Don’t worry. But I’m afraid my free time is over; I must be getting back to work. I’ll see everyone in the morning,” Byleth said her farewell, avoiding Dimitri’s concerned glance as the class bid her good night. 

* * *

The fourth of the Harpstring Moon, 1180. Byleth stood in the audience chamber, awaiting Archbishop Rhea’s arrival. A new moon brought a new mission, which was assigned by the archbishop personally to each class in the Officers Academy. 

“Good morning, dear child. It is good to see you,” said Rhea as she walked out from her office. 

“Good morning, Mother Rhea,” greeted Byleth. 

“Let’s get business out of the way first, shall we? For this month, your class is to dispose of some bandits causing trouble nearby,” said Rhea. 

**Finally, a REAL chance at battle. I was growing tired of all this play-pretend.**

“Some bandits, you say?” asked Byleth.

“Yes. They’ve been wreaking havoc in villages near Garreg Mach, and a bit further north of the Oghma Mountains. Once we receive the report from the knights, you and your students shall be ready to depart at a moment's notice,” instructed Rhea. 

“Understood,” said Byleth compliantly. 

“Excellent. On another note, I’ve heard tell around the monastery that something most curious prevailed during the mock battle,” said Rhea. 

“Really?” asked Byleth carefully. 

“I suppose all this time, you have not considered or perhaps even cared whether or not you have a crest,” said Rhea.

“That’s correct. I guess I’ve always preferred to rely on my own strength,” Byleth said. 

“Hm-hm. But your strength ultimately comes from the goddess, just like crests. To discover that you have one is momentous news,” Rhea said happily. 

“Do you know what crest it is?” Byleth asked. 

“I am not sure of it yet, so I would ask you to visit Hanneman soon so he may perform an analysis. Worry not, his tests are harmless,” Rhea said.

“I’m not worried. If that’s what you want, I’ll do it,” said Byleth. 

“Such a good child,” said Rhea happily. “No doubt this gift is another sign of the goddess’s blessings upon you!”

“Perhaps so.” 

“I’m sure you have much work to get done, as do I. You are dismissed, my child. We’ll be seeing each other again soon,” Rhea said, walking back to her study. 

With her back turned, Byleth noticed that one of the flowers in Rhea’s hair was slightly askew and her hair was pushed to the side. Peeking out from beneath was a pointed ear; she felt her blood run cold as she was immediately reminded of Sothis. How had she never noticed such a simple feature before now? What explanations could there be between the similarity between Rhea and Sothis? Her stomach started to hurt as she felt a pulse throbbing in her skull. 

****

“Are you sure you weren’t imagining things?” said Jeralt when Byleth brought her concerns to him later that day.

“Imagining things? It’s really not like you to brush me off like this,” she said.

“You know that’s not what I’m trying to do. I just know you’ve been under a lot of pressure lately,” the concerned father said.

“I fail to see what that has to do with what I _definitely_ saw,” replied Byleth.

“It just...doesn’t make any sense. It’s a fishy coincidence, for sure. But I can’t even begin to fathom what it could _mean_ ,” Jeralt said, absentmindedly rubbing his chin.

“Maybe it’s time to start digging a little deeper. Spying on the bishops, uncovering the identities of the governing cardinals of the church...I need to figure out what they’re hiding from me,” said Byleth.

**You are SERIOUSLY trying to get me killed, aren’t you?**

“Ah-ah, kid. Don’t get ahead of yourself. You know how dangerous it is for you to be meddling in the church’s secrets. Just please be patient for me a little while longer, okay? We’ve both been busy, so I know you’re frustrated that our research has been put on the back burner. But I promise I haven’t given up, okay?” pleaded the concerned father.

“Fine. Okay,” said Byleth, sighing exasperatedly.

“Why don’t you just focus on your little pupils for now? As long as neither of us are slammed with work, we’ll do some digging the next free day,” Jeralt said.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Byleth said.

“I know you will. Now why don’t you head on up to your room and get an early night? I think I’ll do the same.” 

“Sure. Goodnight, Dad,” she said.

“Night, kid. Love you,” Jeralt said as she left.

****

**Looks like you’re finally pushing him away. Honestly, I thought it would have been even earlier than this, but hey. Go figure.**

Usually not one to succumb to paranoia, Byleth lingered on her father’s words and wondered if perhaps she had just imagined things about Rhea’s ears after all. Jeralt seemed completely unbothered about continuing their investigations too. 

_“Am I doomed to be a prisoner of my own mind forever?”_ she thought to herself.

Recalling Dimitri’s determination to help her learn the truth, Byleth figured she might have to end up relying on him after all, despite her guilt in dragging him into her labyrinth of mystery.

Instead of heading to bed, she found herself knocking at the door to Hanneman’s study. 

“Welcome, welcome, dear girl. Come on in,” he said.

“How long will this take?” she asked bluntly. 

“As straightforward as ever, I see. Not long, since I’ll need some time to collect data. Just a prick and a pull,” said Hanneman, guiding her to a chair.

“Alright. Go ahead, then,” said Byleth. 

Hanneman conjured a fire spell with which he used to sterilize a needle, and quickly pricked her finger and collected the blood in a tube. After, he plucked a single hair from her head, sealing it in a container. Even though they had known each other for years, Byleth was still amazed at Hanneman’s complete lack of awareness of personal space.

“One last step, my dear. If you would please hold your hand out over this device here…” Hanneman instructed, and Byleth complied. An enigmatic symbol materialized. 

“Seems there was something to the rumors, after all. This crest is one that even I have never seen before,” said Hanneman.

“Well, that’s all I really need from you right now, my dear. At least, until I am able to draw some conclusions from the data,” Hanneman said when he was met with silence.

“Okay,” she said shortly.

“Byleth.” 

“Yes?” 

“I know you’re not too keen on all this. You must be nervous about all this-everyone talking about you, all your responsibilities. You have Lady Rhea to please, but I would urge you to try not to think about things too much right now. Why don’t you focus on bonding with the students? Being a little more carefree?” Hanneman suggested, sensing Byleth’s unhappiness. 

“Bonding with the students? How?” asked Byleth.

“Well, heck if I know! Just try not to take things too seriously. I know that may be difficult for you, but even still…” said Hanneman, teasing. 

“Hm. Well, your advice is duly noted. Am I free to go?” said Byleth. 

“Yes, yes, you may go. I appreciate you stopping by. This will give me something new to tackle!” Hanneman said excitedly. 

“I’m sure. Goodnight,” Byleth said.

“Farewell.” 

* * *

The ninth of the Harpstring Moon, 1180. Byleth rose extra early for class, and earned herself several strange glances from other clergy and staff that walked the monastery grounds as she dragged sacks of random supplies to her classroom. She knew her pupils were early risers, and for once she cursed their diligence. She quickly decorated the classroom with paper streamers and colorful adornments before bringing things in from the dining hall. As class time gradually approached, Byleth hoped that Mercedes remembered her promise of preventing Annette from arriving to class even a minute early.

As her pupils shuffled in, most were confused by the whimsical decorations. Refusing to answer any questions until the bell, Byleth only stoically resumed arranging food on the front table. She had prepared some fruit, meat skewers, and a modest cake for the celebration. 

The professor snapped to attention when Mercedes and Annette arrived with the ringing bell. 

“I just don’t get why you’re making me so late today Mercie! I bet the professor is gonna be so worried, I’m always the first one to-” Annette was stopped in her wild rambling when she saw the decorated room.

“Happy birthday, Annette,” Byleth said simply but warmly. 

“Wait, wha..?” the orange haired girl was caught completely off-guard.

“Oh, is that what all this is for? In that case, happiest of birthdays, Annette!” said Ashe. 

“Yes, happy birthday Annette!” her classmates added in as well. 

“Professor, look at you! You have such a big heart,” said Sylvain. 

“All right, everyone, settle down now,” Byleth called after letting her class enjoy a moment of excitement. “As you can see, today is Annette’s birthday. Instead of our usual lectures to start for the first hour, I figured we could hold a little party to celebrate the occasion.” 

“Professor, I don’t know what to say…” said Annette, beaming.

“Just enjoy yourselves for a while. I’ll cut the cake for everyone,” Byleth said. Excited chatter erupted throughout the class. “But only for an hour. We still have work to get done!” Byleth added.

After saying a prayer beseeching the goddess to bestow blessings of good health and fortune upon Annette in the coming year, each student enjoyed cake and snacks while socializing lightheartedly. They each thought time raced by far too quickly when Byleth called them to attention to begin instruction. Unexpectedly, the students showed more attentiveness and vigor than usual. Byleth intended for the birthday party to be a small break for her class, but it seemed it increased their motivation too; it was an all-around success.

When the lunch hour rolled around, Dimitri approached Byleth after they were dismissed.

“Professor, that was incredibly kind of you,” he praised.

“I just want to make sure I’m being an attentive instructor. I have to prove myself,” said Byleth, brushing it off.

“Oh, we both know it’s not as selfish as you say,” Dimitri said. He noticed Byleth looking not at him but behind him; he turned around and saw Annette standing sheepishly waiting for her turn to speak with their teacher.

“Ah, Annette! Please accept my apologies. I didn’t realize you were there,” Dimitri said politely. “I’ll take my leave. Farewell!”

“Farewell, Dimitri,” said Byleth. She noticed Annette look back at the prince as he left, an almost wistful, longing expression on her face.

“What can I do for you, Annette?” asked Byleth.

“Well, I wanted to say thank you so much for that! I can’t believe anyone would actually throw a party just for me!” the young girl said happily.

“Don’t mention it. Growing up, my father always made my birthdays special. I guess I want to do the same for others, too,” the professor said truthfully.

“Captain Jeralt did? For some reason, I wouldn’t have guessed him to be the type!” Annette laughed.

“Don’t let him fool you. He’s as soft as they come,” said Byleth.

“My father was never like that. I always wished he’d show his feelings just a little bit more,” Annette said reminiscently. 

“Was?” Byleth echoed.

“Oh, yeah, well-” 

“I’m sorry, Annette. I shouldn’t pry,” interrupted Byleth, sensing the girl’s discomfort.

“No, it-it’s okay. My father fled Faerghus soon after the Tragedy of Duscur. His name was Gustave, a knight of the Kingdom. I don’t know where he went,” Annette said sadly. 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Byleth said.

“No, it’s alright! I didn’t mean to be too sad or anything!” said Annette. “But truthfully, it’s one of the reasons I came to the monastery. I know he was always really devoted to his faith, so I thought maybe he might come here to escape. But it looks like I got more than I bargained for. Your class can be really hard, Professor Byleth!” she laughed.

“I apologize for that. But you’re a bright young woman Annette-I trust fully that you can handle any obstacle thrown your way,” said the teacher encouragingly. 

“Thank you. It means a lot,” replied Annette.

As Byleth studied the young girl’s face more closely, a faint sense of familiarity washed over her. Growing up at Garreg Mach had brought many faces coming and going in her life, but Annette’s unique orange hair and unique ashen eyes was suddenly unmistakable. 

“Annette, I-”

**Bad idea. He left her for a reason. Telling her will only bring her even more heartache. He doesn’t want her. But, I guess bringing people misfortune has become one of your specialties.**

“Yes, Professor?” said Annette as Byleth trailed off.

“There’s a man here at the monastery named Gilbert. He’s in the Knights of Seiros. He’s got the same hair and eyes as you. Maybe...maybe ask around about him,” said Byleth.

**Wow.**

“R-really, Professor? I...thank you. I...I’ll do that,” said Annette, her voice becoming shaky. 

“Don’t mention it,” Byleth said.

“Well, I’ll be on my way then. I’m sure you want to eat lunch too!” said Annette, turning to leave.

“Annette?” 

“Yes?”

“Please don’t spend too much time begging someone who doesn’t deserve your affection to return it. Okay?” Byleth said.

“O-okay, Professor. Thank you,” Annette replied nervously and made her exit.

Having suddenly lost her appetite, Byleth spent the lunch hour and the rest of the school day wondering if she made a grave mistake.

* * *

The eleventh of the Harpstring Moon, 1180. Jeralt followed through with his promise of taking the free day to do some research with Byleth. They sat amongst one of the barricaded, staff restricted areas of the library, sifting through volume after volume of indecipherable texts. Most of the books were written in an ancient tongue, the likes of which even Byleth had never seen. 

“It’s so difficult to tell what might be important. I can’t recognize any of these symbols,” Byleth said, exasperated as she sat cross legged on the ground.

“Would be a lot easier if there were some pictures to guide us, huh?” Jeralt joked.

“Heh. I suppose,” said Byleth. The few images that did show up in their searches were simply artist depictions of Saint Seiros, the goddess, or the other four saints-nothing Byleth hadn’t seen before.

Several hours of studying passed; she sat for so long that her legs went numb and her back ached immensely. Jeralt sat on a chair with his elbow on his leg, rubbing the bridge of his nose exhaustingly. Opening another thick, leather bound book, Byleth was surprised when a worn piece of paper fell haphazardly from between the pages. She wordlessly opened it and was taken aback by what she found inside.

“Whatcha got there, kid?” Jeralt asked, noticing how intently his daughter was staring at the document.

“It looks like a diagram of the Immaculate One,” Byleth replied. She remembered seeing the great beast depicted on a fresco with the goddess and Saint Seiros. “It was said to have been sent by the goddess to save the followers of Saint Seiros.” 

“To be honest, I always thought that legend was supposed to be metaphorical. This diagram looks pretty...scientific,” Jeralt said, puzzled. 

“Scientific? In the Church of Seiros? Now that’s something I’d like to see,” the unfamiliar voice startled both father and child. 

“Claude...you know this area is restricted,” said Byleth, recognizing the young man from the shadows.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry-I just couldn’t help myself,” the Golden Deer house leader replied casually. 

“Is there something I can help you with?” she asked, standing up with her arms crossed.

“Not particularly. Though I have to admit, I’m pretty interested in that Immaculate One diagram you’ve found just now, too,” said Claude. “Unless you and the church have something to hide?”

“Guilting me? Lovely. How about we go back down to the main area so I don’t get in trouble for letting you up here?” she replied.

“Byleth, you know you don’t have to give in to this nonsense,” Jeralt said under his breath. 

“It’s fine. We’re not getting anywhere at this pace, anyway,” she said, following Claude down the stairs. “You’re welcome to come too.” 

Seated at a table in the library common area, Byleth allowed Claude to study the diagram for himself, to which a smirk of self-satisfaction crossed his face. 

“You’re familiar with the Heroes’ Relics, right Teach?” asked Claude.

“I suppose. Though I’ve never seen one in person,” Byleth answered. 

“ _Teach_?” Jeralt echoed, clearly annoyed. 

“Each Relic I’ve read about has a slot for a crest stone to be placed-a bearer of the corresponding crest can fully utilize the Relic’s power,” Claude explained. It was knowledge Byleth already knew about, but had never seen firsthand.

“So you’ve been studying. What does this have to do with the Immaculate One?” asked Byleth, turning her attention back to the diagram.

“Look right here. At the pattern on the brow. And this faint circular boundary right here, too. Doesn’t that look like a crest stone?” said Claude, pointing to the Immaculate One’s forehead.

“I guess it could be. But I cannot see what crest is engraved there, nor can we actually be sure,” said Byleth. She couldn’t deny the uncanny observation.

“I wonder...could such creatures like the Immaculate One be where crest power is derived?” asked Claude. His voice was more akin to someone who already had everything figured out, and was leading her to make the same discovery.

“That would have to imply the existence of other Immaculate Ones...for each crest…” Byleth said more to herself than anyone else. 

“Bingo,” Claude said with a proud smirk.

“How do you know all this?” asked Jeralt. He put up a defensive front, but he was just as curious about the matter as Byleth.

“I’m just very studious about the things I’m interested in, I suppose,” Claude replied. “And, Teach...word didn’t escape me of the crest you displayed during the mock battle. The mysterious one that no one had ever seen before? That one?”

“Are you threatening me, or asking me a question? I can’t tell,” said Byleth, deflecting with sarcasm. 

“The archbishop and the rest of the church claim you to be some sort of prophet, chosen by the goddess. Maybe your crest has something to do with the crest on the Immaculate One, who was also sent by the goddess in its own right,” said Claude, his eyes scanning her as if searching to pull something out of her. 

**What a troublesome kid. He’s hard to read.**

“I don’t know about that. Who’s to say, I suppose,” said Byleth. Although she was grateful for Claude’s insight, the coincidence was too unnerving. How convenient that he would appear with such information right as Byleth uncovered the truth of Rhea’s inhuman appearance and found the diagram of the Immaculate One.

“I know I might not act like it, Teach, but I’m pretty useful to have around,” Claude teased.

“I’m sure. Now, not that it hasn’t been fun, but I’m really not in the mood to get myself or you in trouble for snooping around,” said Byleth, packing up her things.

“Sure, Teach. Be seeing you,” said Claude, strolling casually out of the library.

“That kid rubs me the wrong way,” said Jeralt once Claude was out of earshot. 

“Mm,” Byleth grumbled.

“It’s refreshing to have so many energetic youths in the academy this year, hm?” Byleth turned toward Tomas’s voice as he approached. 

“Energetic is one way to put it. What can I do for you, Tomas?” she asked the librarian. 

“Now, Lady Byleth, I don’t mean to eavesdrop, but you mentioned finding a diagram of the Immaculate One. Not that it isn’t interesting study material, but I’m afraid it’s not part of the library’s official collection. It must have found its way here by mistake,” Tomas explained. “Might I ask for it, so I may surrender it to Lady Rhea?” 

“Fine, I guess. I didn’t know censorship was so important to us,” said Byleth. 

“Now, now. You know I’m simply following rules, Lady Byleth!” Tomas said. 

“Yes, I understand. I shouldn’t be upset with you. I don’t mean to be rude, Tomas, but we have a lot to take care of, and-“

“Absolutely. You need not say another word. Have a wonderful day, Lady Byleth,” said Tomas, casually strolling away. Byleth was wordless, the heat and ache in her head rising. 

“Come to the training grounds with me? I need to let off some steam,” said Byleth, turning to Jeralt. 

“Sure thing, kid,” agreed Jeralt.

She focused the rest of her day on spending her energy on rigorous sparring, physically and metaphorically fighting off Sothis’s pull over her.

* * *

The thirtieth of the Harpstring Moon, 1180. The Knights of Seiros had just delivered a report to Archbishop Rhea that the bandits were cornered in Zanado, the Red Canyon. Giving the orders to move out immediately, Byleth led her class across th3e fields with confidence. A heavy air hung over the students; departing for their mission on such short notice as well as the nervousness of facing real battle head-on for the first time left students feeling apprehensive. Dimitri walked alongside the professor, unusually quiet.

“And remember, don’t let anyone head off on their own. The battle should be an easy win, but this is no mock battle. Anything can happen. We have the knights as backup, so as long as we stay together we’ll be safe,” Byleth ran through her instructions to the house leader, who remained silent.

“Dimitri? Are you okay?” she asked softly.

“Hm? Oh! Yes, of course, just-just a little nervous, I suppose,” said Dimitri, snapping to attention as if returning to reality from some other world.

“It’ll be okay. I’ll be there to guide you all every step of the way,” Byleth comforted.

“I know.”

“I hope everything’s been going well. I know we haven’t had much of a chance to speak this month,” said Byleth.

“Things have been just fine. I know you’ve been busy. To be quite honest, I have too-the academic setting has been a lot for me to adjust to,” said Dimitri.

“I understand. I’m still having trouble adjusting to my new routine, myself. Say, something interesting happened a couple weeks ago,” said Byleth, waiting for his reaction.

“Is that so?” 

“Mhm. With Claude. He revealed some interesting info while I was researching with Dad,” said Byleth, explaining in detail her earlier discovery concerning Rhea and the diagram of the Immaculate One. 

“That’s a bit much to take in. My apologies-I feel as though I should have been with you for that,” said Dimitri.

“It’s okay. I had Dad with me. It just feels like I’m trying to solve an elaborate puzzle, but I only have some of the pieces,” said Byleth.

“We’ll figure it out eventually, worry not,” said Dimitri.

“But I must urge you to be more careful in your investigation. Who knows what Claude-and others-might be up to?” Dimitri added, clearly concerned.

“Perhaps you’re right. I’ll be more careful from now on,” said Byleth.

“But I definitely agree with you-this information seems important in learning the truth about Sothis, but it all seems so disjointed. Maybe our search should extend beyond Garreg Mach?” Dimitri suggested.

“Maybe, but I wouldn’t even know where to begin,” Byleth lamented.

“Professor!” said Dedue behind them. “Look over there,” the young man pointed in the distance to a faint tower of smoke; the bandits’ camp was nearby.

Byleth turned around to face her convoy, urging them to keep down noise while briefing them on the planned formation of attack.

“What a desolate place,” Mercedes commented as the class arrived at the canyon.

“I wonder why they call this the Red Canyon…” Dimitri said to himself.

“Alright everyone, look alive. Enemies spotted,” Byleth called to her students.

They took their spots as planned-mounted fighters and melee fighters took the front lines, while ranged weapons and magic users took the rear. They charged the battlefield in a relatively tight formation, closely following their professor’s instructions to stay close to one another. The students fell almost into a rhythm as they fought the bandits. Using the debris and wreckage scattered among the canyon as coverage, the ranged attackers picked off the ruffians from afar, and the duelists took the opportunity to finish off the weakened opponents. A heavy aura hung over the Blue Lions as they thinned the enemy numbers. 

“If...if I had hesitated, that could have been me,” Byleth heard Ashe mutter softly as he took the life of his opponent from afar.

“May the goddess bless their souls to rest in peace,” Mercedes prayed aloud. Byleth felt guilt creep up on her from subjecting her innocent and optimistic students to brutal bloodshed. Yet she couldn’t deny the animalistic satisfaction she derived from battle-it was in combat where she felt most comfortable.

**Looks like you’re raising an army of little murderers!**

Trekking ahead with Dimitri and Dedue on either side of her, Byleth noticed the bandits’ leader in the distance, hiding amongst a pile of rubble. Even from afar, Byleth caught the unmistakable glint of red steel in his hand-he wielded a killer axe. Even with the support of the Knights of Seiros, Byleth couldn’t live with herself if something were to happen to one of her pupils, who were no doubt inexperienced against such a fearsome, unpredictable weapon.

 _“Heh...I’m not setting a very good example_ ,” she thought as she charged ahead at full force, leaving the rest of the party behind.

“Professor!?” she heard Dimitri call out from behind her.

“Stay there!” she yelled back.

The bandit leader saw her coming and looked wildly from side to side, obviously searching for backup that would never come. In the face of his wild terror, Byleth was cold, stoic, unflinching. She descended upon him like a wolf pursuing its prey.

A loud crack of thunder magic caught her off guard. From the trees, a hoard of unidentified soldiers in long black cloaks and ominous beaked masks marched toward her. In the confusion, Byleth noticed the bandit leader had disappeared. Her logic screamed at her to run far away, but the longer she stared at them the more entranced she became. She heard shouting from behind her as the knights moved in as support, but the noise sounded muffled and garbled, as though she were submerged underwater. She couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity and _hatred_ she felt as she looked upon the approaching soldiers. She felt a rhythmic thumping against her eardrums, and as a cacophony of mumbling gibberish in Sothis’s voice filled her head, the thread holding Byleth’s composure snapped.

She was suddenly a marionette, powerless to resist the pull of her strings. Like a crazed animal, she raced toward the attackers with unnatural speed, brandishing her blade with fury. They were fools not to be afraid of her. Dodging any spell or swing thrown her direction, Byleth ruthlessly cut down the wave of assassins one by one. 

“Don’t let her get away! We’ll have that demon’s head!” she heard one of them should amidst the chaos. 

**So they** **_are_ ** **after me. Amusing.**

Her vision blurred in and out as her slaughter continued. She blinked, her eyes closing on the world and opening to scenic visions of a plain painted red, of faces too fuzzy to make out. Then, she opened her eyes to see the meadow she knew well from her dreams. The woman with Sothis’s face stood there, looking pitifully in her direction.

“You can overcome this. And so can I…” the woman said, though Byleth felt her words rather than heard them. They were like a serene breeze washing over her, clearing away the fog. 

Byleth opened her eyes, reeling from the bloody sight before her. Not a single one of the mysterious soldiers were left standing, their mangled bodies lying pathetically in a pool of blood and entrails. The silence she was left with was deafening, and the sight made her retch; she leaned over and emptied the contents of her stomach. She turned around and saw the small platoon of knights behind her, looking on in stunned silence. And, to her horror, Dimitri stood wide-eyed just a few steps back from the knights, having defied her orders to stay with the rest of the class and instead pursuing her. She could tell he had witnessed everything she had done. 

And he was terrified.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow meeeee twitter.com/itswingberry


	5. Unworthy and Unqualified

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Featuring Dimitri and Byleth experiencing some turbulence, the mystery of crests, Edelgard's past, Dimitri and Byleth enjoying a holiday together, Sylvain and the Lance of Ruin, and Rhea losing her shit yet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hewwooo ;w;  
> Sorry it took me so long to write such a short chapter. I've been totally caught up with work, and I took a short break from writing to enjoy my anniversary with my boyfriend and figure out how the Cindered Shadows DLC has fucked with my plans for this story LMAO
> 
> I've also just been feeling...not confident about writing in general. So I figured-fuck it! I'm gonna stop overthinking everything and write what I want! :-) 
> 
> (And as always, I really really appreciate the kudos and comments <3 ) 
> 
> I'm feeling better now, and I hope you enjoy the update! I've already got some new exciting ideas for the next one!  
> *Also before you tell me-oh, the Miklan chapter happened in Verdant Rain Moon in the game!! Yeah, I know. :-)*  
> ~~  
> The last scene was super inspired by this art from Cosu/guessibetter on Twitter, please check them out and give them a follow! https://twitter.com/guessibetter/status/1185043444571557888?s=20

* * *

The scene kept replaying in his head viciously. He couldn’t accept it. To watch someone snap from a calm, collected human into a crazed beast in the blink of an eye was a reality Dimitri could not accept. He wished he could claim that it was because such a lust for bloodshed was reprehensible, alien, and far beneath him. But, in truth, witnessing Byleth’s violent episode was like looking into a mirror, reflecting the darkest parts of his psyche that he wished to abandon. 

He remembered the rebellion in Faerghus he quelled, and the glee he took in crushing all his opponents in sight. Felix witnessed the entire ordeal; he had been branded by him as the boar prince since the incident. He could not deny that animalistic side of himself as much as he wished to run away from it. And he didn’t want to believe that Byleth was more like him than he cared to admit.

The first of the Garland Moon of 1180. The new moon brought the beginning of the summer’s rainy season, a symbolic start of new life. From the last of spring’s white roses, young women fashioned garlands to gift to friends and loved ones. During a month meant to celebrate the people in his life, Dimitri would have rather pulled himself further into seclusion. 

He begrudgingly arrived to class, dreading having to face Byleth. In the classroom, his professor sat waiting for the day to begin, scribbling away at paperwork as if nothing had happened. 

“ _How can she face us, as if everything is okay_?” thought Dimitri.

He knew nobody else in the class witnessed the assassins on the battlefield, or how ruthlessly their professor had picked them off. Dimitri wanted to forgive, to understand, and to recognize that it wasn’t her fault. But how could he, when he had yet to forgive himself?

The bell rang, and like clockwork, Byleth rose immediately to start the day.

“Good morning, everyone. I’d like to begin today by announcing our assigned mission for the Garland Moon. House Gautier, on behalf of the Kingdom of Faerghus, has beseeched Garreg Mach Monastery and the Knights of Seiros to assist them in recovering the Lance of Ruin from a formidable group of bandits, led by a man named Miklan. With the surprise ambush during our last mission as well as the high stakes of the mission, we need to be on high alert,” explained Byleth.

Dimitri turned to look at Sylvain at the mention of Miklan. The redhead, who had previously been whispering lightheartedly to another student through Byleth’s speech, now stared straight ahead blankly, his jaw clenched. Byleth waited for the buzz among the class to settle down before continuing.

“Well, now that we have that out of the way, let’s begin, shall we?” she said.

The day progressed as usual, although a hint of uncertainty hung in the air as the students discussed the mission to come. At the end of the day, Dimitri was dismayed when Byleth asked him to stay after class.

“What can I do for you?” he asked politely.

“I wanted to make sure you are still intending to take the soldier qualification exam this week?” she said.

“Yes, that is my intention,” he replied.

“Um...Dimitri, I wanted to talk to you about Zanado. I don’t know what to say, I-” Byleth started.

“My apologies, Professor,” said Dimitri, interrupting. “But I do have plans right now. Perhaps we could talk about this another time.”

“Oh! Uh. Yes, of course. I’m sorry to bother you,” said Byleth, her face going stone cold.

“I must be going then. Good day, Professor,” said Dimitri, making his exit.

Instead of venturing to the dining hall or the training grounds as he normally would, Dimitri went to the greenhouse, hoping to seek out a friend. And, as he expected, Dedue was crouched among the flowerbeds, tending to the plants.

“Hello, Your Highness,” said Dedue as he continued his work.

“Hello, Dedue,” Dimitri replied. He thought about helping him, but feared his brutal strength would destroy the delicate plants.

“What did Professor Byleth need?” asked Dedue.

“Oh, it was nothing. She simply reminded me of my qualification exam coming up,” said Dimitri.

“Anything else?”

“I do not suppose so? You seem to be pushing for something, Dedue,” Dimitri said.

“I did not mean any offense, Your Highness. But you haven’t been yourself since the last mission. I’ve simply been worried,” Dedue said.

“Nothing gets past you,” Dimitri said. 

“Do not feel obligated to share anything with me. But I am here if you need it,” Dedue said.

“Dedue...you are the only one whom I have shared Byleth’s interesting circumstances with. About the voice in her head, her stressful life in the monastery...I was able to accept everything until...until that day in the Red Canyon,” said Dimitri, opening up to him. Dedue, taking off his gloves, turned his full attention to the prince.

“What happened?” asked Dedue.

“I’m sure it was a fit, an episode. I _know_ it wasn't her fault, but the sight...she took down the ambushers, Dedue. Single-handedly. I…” Dimitri stopped himself as his voice got louder. 

“I see,” said Dedue, never much one for words.

“I know how hypocritical it is to be scared of her like this. I am aware that such a similar beast sleeps within me as well. I suppose I wanted her to...to be better than me,” said Dimitri. 

“To save you,” said Dedue.

“Pardon?”

“You wanted her to save you. And now you are distraught, because you have realized that perhaps she cannot.” 

“I...I don’t know, Dedue, I-”

“My apologies for stepping out of line. All I say and do is in your best interest.” Dedue said. 

“I know, my friend. I know. Then what do you propose I do? What should I say to her?” Dimitri asked, defeated. 

“Nothing. Just continue being friends. You don’t have to force anything,” Dedue said. 

“Hm…” Dimitri hummed thoughtfully.

“But any decision you make, please know that I will support it,” Dedue said, moving to leave the greenhouse.

“Yes, of course. Thank you, Dedue. I value your friendship and guidance as always,” Dimitri said gracefully.

“I am happy to be of service,” said Dedue. Dimitri sensed distance between them as the young man refused to return the notion of friendship-instead meeting it with dutiful obligation. No matter. It was a bridge that did not need to be crossed immediately. 

Dimitri headed home for the day after fulfilling the rest of his daily routine. Training, supper, study, bath, bed. The monotony might have bored anyone else, but Dimitri welcomed the structure in his life. He had been thrown around too tumultuously through life not to enjoy the blessing of peace.

Laying himself down for bed, Dimitri remembered Dedue’s advice. Resolving to let go of his reservations, he thought of a way to approach Byleth on the upcoming Day of Devotion. For the one he sought salvation in, he would afford the same grace.

* * *

The third of the Garland Moon, 1180. After class, Byleth headed straight for Hanneman’s office where she had been summoned. When she arrived, Hanneman’s look of elation inspired in her the opposite effect.

“Good news, my dear. I have made a discovery of great paramount,” said Hanneman. 

“My crest, right? What is it?” asked Byleth, crossing her arms.

“I had my doubts at first, but of this I am certain-you possess none other than the Crest of Flames,” Hanneman said. Byleth felt a rising heat in her head, as if it was an instinctual reaction to his words.

“Possessed by the King of Liberation himself. Interesting,” said Byleth. 

“Indeed. How coincidental that Nemesis’s bloodline lived on through history, and happened to find its way to the monastery,” said Hanneman.

“Strange, indeed. We should keep quiet about this,” said Byleth, eyeing the cracked open door. “Trouble could arise if the people were to find I am descended from such a figure.” 

“Hm…” Hanneman mumbled, lost in thought. 

**An interesting development.**

“I wonder if Mother Rhea knew,” Byleth mused.

“Who is to say? This explains where your unique abilities may originate from,” Hanneman said.

“Tch. As soon as you discover I have a crest, suddenly all my years of training and studying are of no consequence?” Byleth quipped indignantly. 

“You know that is not what I meant,” Hanneman said.

“I know, I know.” 

“Maybe with this new discovery, you will be able to unlock even more hidden power within yourself,” Hanneman suggested.

“If you say so,” Byleth said, ready to escape the stuffy office. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have a lot of errands to tackle.”

“Of course, of course. I’ll let you be on your way,” said Hanneman. 

“Have a good day. And let me know if you need anything else,” Byleth said. 

“I’ll take you up on that!” Hanneman laughed as they parted ways. 

~~~~

Byleth was relieved to escape his office. The more Hanneman told her, the more nervousness and discomfort rose in her stomach. How ironic, she thought, that she would be so averse to this truth when it was truth she sought above all.

Focusing on her duties and training for the rest of the day proved difficult as thoughts of her crest weighed down on her mind. The last thing she needed was another elaborate mystery to unravel.

She decided to cast a line at the fishing pond that night to ease her mind. Watching the rippling water’s surface once brought her peace, but the sight of the glassy water reminded her now of the tank in the Holy Tomb. Once upon a time, the suspense of waiting for a bite, the tension, and the immense feeling of satisfaction when she finally landed a catch-she loved it all. The suspense was now more akin to unease, like waiting for something terrible to suddenly happen. And yet she remained, clinging to a nostalgic pastime in hopes of recovering the respite it once afforded her. Some nights, she wondered if anything would bring her peace in the end

“Good evening, Professor Byleth,” came a voice from behind her.

“Good evening, Edelgard. What can I do for you?” asked Byleth calmly as she turned around.

“Nothing in particular. Sleep evades me. It seems the same is true for you,” said Edelgard, coming to stand on the docks beside the professor.

“I see. I’m simply taking some time to relax,” Byleth said.

“Ah.” An awkward silence hung over them. Byleth wondered what Edelgard, who never took action without purpose, wished to say. 

“Professor,” Edelgard said, taking a seat next to her. “I overheard your conversation with Professor Hanneman.” 

“Hm. And what is the purpose of you admitting to eavesdropping on my private conversation?” asked Byleth, reeling in her line. Edelgard sighed. 

“I don’t know why I feel so compelled to reveal this to you, but…” a glowing rune appeared above Edelgard’s open palm-the Crest of Flames.

“Interesting. How did a Hresvelg heir end up with the Crest of Flames?” Byleth said, truly intrigued. 

“It is unheard of. I possess both the crest of Seiros and the Crest of Flames,” said Edelgard, displaying them almost proudly.

“Two? But that’s-”

“Impossible? Yes, all things considered, it is,” said Edelgard.

“The crest of Seiros has been passed down in the Hresvelg family since the founding of the empire. But The Crest of Flames…” said Byleth. 

**It seems the King of Liberation sank his claws into more bloodlines than just one. Hmph.**

“I was not born with it. Rather, it was given to me. Forced upon me,” Edelgard said, carefully selecting her words. 

“Hm…” Byleth hummed thoughtfully. Even if someone had once shared their blood with her who possessed the Crest of Flames, it would be against the laws of nature for a body to house more than one crest.

“I don’t even know why I feel compelled to tell you this, but...When I was a child, my siblings and I were imprisoned underground, underneath the palace. My ten brothers and sisters were crippled by disease, lost their minds, or died,” Edelgard said calmly, slowly. 

“That’s horrible…” said Byleth.

“Our captors’ purpose was to endow our bodies with the Crest of Flames. They did this through cutting open our flesh, and conducting heinous experiments on us. And with me, they were finally successful. I can’t help but wonder if my captors and your assailants are somehow linked…” Edelgard held her chin in her hand. Byleth was surprised at how composed and confident she remained, even when telling such a tragic story.

“Edelgard, this is all a little unbelievable,” Byleth said.

“It matters not whether you believe me. The fact is-I seek answers, the same as you,” Edelgard continued, her shining white hair like the moonlight itself.

“Edelgard. I am truly sorry to hear your story. But what point are you getting at?” said Byleth shortly, tiring of the way she danced around her meaning.

“You are not so unassuming in the way you sneak about the monastery. Always reading and researching. I wanted to offer my support and know that you can rely on me if you ever need allies,” Edelgard said.

“I see. The sentiment is appreciated. But whatever it is you think I’m doing, you are mistaken,” Byleth said. She couldn’t risk her investigations being impeded by Edelgard’s meddling. 

“Alright. It is as you say,” the princess replied, looking dejected. 

“I really am sorry about what happened to you, and I promise to keep your story to myself. If it's any small comfort, know that as archbishop, I will not be complicit in the structures that allow such misuse of power,” Byleth said. 

_“If I become archbishop,_ ” she added as an afterthought to herself.

“Is that so? Perhaps our ideals are more alike than I thought,” said Edelgard.

“Perhaps so.”

“Well, my teacher, I feel as though I’ve tugged your ear for long enough. May we speak again soon,” said Edelgard swiftly, disappearing into the night. 

**Well, that was completely uncharacteristic of her. She opened up to you and you completely blew her off.**

“More like she forced herself on me…” Byleth thought in response. Why would Edelgard, so refined and standoffish, impart such a personal story to her, whom with she had barely spoken? The answer was among the least of her worries. Byleth packed up her gear and left the pond, suddenly no longer in the mood to continue fishing.

* * *

The fifth of the Garland Moon. Byleth bustled about her office, setting out a plate of desserts and tea. She prepared Almyran pine needle tea, the woodsy scent flooding the room and reminding her of the rare hunting excursions with her father. She was expecting Sylvain, whom she had invited over for his birthday. It was a perfect opportunity to gather information on Miklan as well-despite how grossly impolite it might be to bring up an estranged brother on his special day.

Byleth answered a knock at her door, letting a grinning Sylvain inside.

“Sorry I’m late, Professor. As you can expect, I’ve been a little busy today. Lots of people demanding my attention and all,” said Sylvain, his voice smooth and inviting.

“Sure. Please, have a seat,” Byleth replied.

“Wow, Professor. Gotta say, you really do go above and beyond!” said Sylvain, seeing the tea and desserts set out across the table. 

“Can I not simply do something nice for my student on his birthday?” Byleth said. 

“Naw, I didn’t say that! You did much the same for Annette and Mercedes, so I appreciate the gesture,” Sylvain replied, helping himself to a pastry. 

“As much as I’d like to throw a party for everyone’s birthday like I did for Annette, Seteth was _not_ happy with me,” Byleth said, earning a laugh from Sylvain.

“I bet he wasn’t,” said the redhead. 

“Here you are,” offered Byleth, pouring them each a cup of tea.

“Thanks. Say, Professor. When are you and Dimitri going to confess your undying love to each other?” Sylvain asked bluntly. Byleth could tell from the glint in his eyes that he couldn't wait for her reaction. 

“Not today, I don’t think. Why do you ask?” she joked, her expression unchanging.

“Not even a reaction, huh? You know, that emotionless facade you put up is one of the things His Highness loves about you, but I gotta say-not a fan,” Sylvain said. The tone of his voice belied his sharp words. 

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” said Byleth. 

“No, it’s okay. The fault is my own. So-” 

“It’s not that I am emotionless. Far from it. It’s just hard for me to express what I feel,” Byleth said. 

“Really, I didn’t mean it, Professor. I apologize,” said Sylvain. 

“It’s okay. And besides...I don’t think Dimitri cares to be around me anymore, anyway,” she added quieter. 

**Quit derailing and making everything about you! You’re here to ask about Miklan, you idiot.**

“Now _that_ can’t be true. You guys have known each other for a long time. I don’t believe he’d randomly decide he doesn’t like you,” Sylvain said. 

“No, I...I did something that…” Byleth stopped herself, chuckling. “It doesn't matter.” 

“The hell it doesn’t. You don’t have to tell me anything, but you two better not give up on each other. You’ve each gotten yourselves into _far_ too much trouble for one another,” said Sylvain. 

“I suppose you’re right. I know King Lambert was not pleased when Dimitri and I spent time together,” Byleth said, reminiscing. 

“I don’t know if it was so much that, as it was that he expected Dimitri to behave in a certain way,” argued Sylvain. 

“A certain way?” 

“Yeah. In Faerghus, they take the whole nobility thing _pretty_ seriously. There’s rigid ways to train, behave, and think. It’s part of why people like Miklan ended up the way that they did,” Sylvain said. Byleth perked up at the mention of the month’s target for the mission.

“Miklan. He’s your older brother, right?” Byleth asked.

“Hah! _Was._ He’s nothing more than a thug in my eyes now,” said Sylvain with venom in his voice.

“I see. But how did an heir of House Gautier end up a bandit leader? “ Byleth asked, pressing further.

“Well, in case you weren’t aware, things aren’t so easy in Fódlan for those without crests. Miklan may be my older brother, but he was born without one. He was tossed out of the family like yesterday’s garbage,” Sylvain explained, his anger slowly getting the best of him. 

“I had no idea,” said Byleth. “I’m sorry.” 

“You’re supposed to be leading Fódlan one day and you ‘had no idea’? Just like you had no idea you had a crest yourself, right?” said Sylvain sarcastically. 

“I suppose so, yes,” Byleth said. 

“Hm. You know, there’s a price to pay for crests in this country, Professor.”

“So I’m learning. I guess they’re more of a curse than a blessing,” said Byleth. 

“That’s an understatement.” 

“Sorry, Sylvain. I didn’t mean to bring things down, especially on your birthday,” Byleth apologized. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’m actually enjoying having a meaningful conversation with a beautiful lady for once,” Sylvain said with a genuine smile.

“Sylvain-” she warned. 

“No, no, don’t worry! As much as I’d like to make my move, I’ll let Dimitri have you,” said the redhead with a wink. 

“Sylvain!” Byleth chided indignantly. 

“Well, look at the time! I really ought to be going, Professor!” said Sylvain, gulping down the last of his tea. “See ya later!” he said as Byleth playfully chased him out the door. 

“Happy birthday, Sylvain,” she said as he left. Once feeling lukewarm toward the philanderer, Byleth felt pleased to have been let inside his bubble, if even simply for an evening.

* * *

The fourteenth of the Garland Moon brought excitement to the students of the Officers Academy. On the Day of Devotion, the young students looked forward to presenting gifts of white spring flowers to their friends and romantic interests. Although garlands of spring flowers were traditionally crafted by females, Dimitri was among those planning to present a gift of blooms to a special someone.

Knowing Byleth wouldn’t be one to appreciate a gaudy necklace or crown, the prince settled on a modest bracelet woven with baby’s breath. Not one at all for delicate work, Dimitri was grateful when Mercedes agreed to help him with it. 

Classes progressed as normal, and Dimitri was relieved that most of the day was spent at the training grounds-exerting himself helped dispel his nerves. 

At the end of the day, he went back to Byleth’s office with a small gift box in hand. 

“Dimitri? Is there something I can do for you?” she asked as he rapped his knuckles on the doorframe. She appeared surprised. 

“Yes, ah-Am I interrupting you?” he asked politely as he entered. 

“Not at all,” she replied. 

“I wanted to give you this,” he handed her the box. She opened it, revealing the flower bracelet.

“As you know, it’s the Day of Devotion, so I wanted to make you this for the occasion...as well as to apologize,” Dimitri explained. He was happy to see that it fit her. 

“Apologize?” she asked. 

“Yes. It was wrong of me to treat you the way I did after the...incident...at Zanado.” 

“Oh, don’t worry about it. You had every right to do so. I never wanted you to see that side of me,” said Byleth, avoiding his gaze. 

“Despite it all, I accept that side of you. I treasure our friendship too much to dwell on something like that. I know it wasn’t your fault,” said Dimitri. 

“I can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear that. And thank you for the bracelet-it’s lovely. I am ashamed that I have nothing to reciprocate,” said Byleth.

“That’s quite alright! Perhaps you could make it up to me by agreeing to a little proposal?” replied Dimitri with a charming smile.

“I’m listening.” 

“There is to be a small celebration down by the marketplace tonight for the Day of Devotion. I wanted to ask if you’d perhaps accompany me in spending the evening there?” asked Dimitri. 

“A festival? Oh, I’d be delighted to, but...what if people spread rumors? Is it not a bit unbecoming for teacher and student to be spending leisure time together?” said Byleth, concerned.

“Perhaps it could be construed as such. And I understand if you do not consent, but I don’t believe anyone would raise a fuss over it. Except maybe Sylvain…” said Dimitri with a chuckle. 

“Right. In that case, I accept. Let’s head down there as soon as I change clothes?” Byleth said. 

“Yes, lets!” Dimitri replies, beaming. 

~~~~ 

The plaza and marketplace were scattered with students and citizens alike, all eager to partake in the festivities. The shops were full of flowers, gifts, and novelties, each merchant ready to capitalize on the excitement. Couples and young lovers held hands in the streets, giggling amongst themselves as they enjoyed the sights. Surrounded by lovers on romantic outings, Byleth and Dimitri both wore faint blushes, each secretly embarrassed at the thought of being mistaken as such a couple. 

“I didn’t realize that Day of Devotion got so popular with couples,” said Byleth. Throughout her years, she had never had the opportunity to partake in celebrating the holiday, as it had always been insignificant in the Church of Seiros. 

“It only seems to get more and more popular. Dare I say, it might be a good thing that you decided to wear something different than usual,” said Dimitri, noticing Byleth’s change of clothes and the way she tied her hair up into a bun. 

“Hm…you know, Dimitri? Forget about all that,” said Byleth, grabbing hold of his hand. “I’m tired of worrying what anyone says or thinks. The same things await me from Mother Rhea and the church, anyway.” 

“If you think this is alright, then…” Dimitri stammered, blushing deeply as he held her hand in his. It was so small, and felt so delicate-Dimitri feared he might crush her. 

“Are you okay with it?” she asked, referring to their intertwined fingers.

“Yes. It’s…quite nice, actually,” said Dimitri. 

“Good. I feel the same,” she replied. 

The pair strolled leisurely throughout the plaza and marketplace, meshing in and out of the waves of festival goers. The cloudy day made the sky look as white as the springtime lilies, and a cool breeze brushed across their faces. 

“There’s a lot of stalls here. Do you like sweets?” asked Byleth, pointing to a gift shop. “Pick out something you’d like. My treat.” 

“Haha, I’m afraid I’m not much one for sweets. I appreciate the sentiment, though,” Dimitri said. 

“Really? Surely there must be something you like?” said Byleth.

“Interestingly enough, I can no longer taste. So I fear things like sweets would be wasted on me,” said Dimitri. 

“That hasn’t always been the case, has it?” 

“No. I’m afraid it was one of the many things I lost in Duscur,” replied Dimitri sadly. 

“Oh. I’m sorry, Dimitri,” she said. 

“No need to apologize.” 

“In that case, how about I get you some flowers? Can’t go wrong with tradition, right?” Byleth offered.

“I’d be honored.” 

Byleth stopped and eyed one of the shops, hesitating. 

“This is awkward, but, um...if I purchase them myself, there’s a good chance of me being recognized. Would...you go and get them?” asked Byleth sheepishly, handing over gold to Dimitri. 

“Having me purchase my own gift? Haha! You amuse me, Byleth,” he said. 

“Do you want the gift or not?” she asked playfully. 

“I’m going, worry not! I shall return shortly,” said Dimitri, heading over to the stand. Byleth waited patiently, soaking up the feeling of peace in her heart.

“They’re lovely, are they not?” said Dimitri as he returned with a garland of white roses. 

“They are indeed.” said Byleth, admiring how the blooms around his neck made his blue eyes shine that much brighter.

“You don’t think they look too feminine?” asked Dimitri. 

“You look fine. Besides, we’re not caring what other people think right now, remember?” said Byleth.

“Right, right. Thank you for the gift,” Dimitri said.

“Of course. Sorry I didn’t think to get you one sooner,” she said. 

“Nonsense. Say, have you and Sir Jeralt had any more luck in your research?” he asked. 

“Not exactly. But some other strange things have been happening. Hanneman found out the nature of my crest, for one,” said Byleth. 

“Oh? Care to share?”

“It’s the Crest of Flames. Bore by Nemesis, the King of Liberation,” said Byleth. 

“I cannot say I have ever heard of anyone else bearing that crest. Perhaps this is why Rhea chose you to be her successor in the first place,” Dimitri suggested.

“Choosing me based on an inferred connection to a king who turned to darkness and was slain by Saint Seiros herself? Not likely,” Byleth countered. 

“You have a point. That is puzzling, indeed. I am surprised that it has lay hidden for all this time,” said Dimitri. 

“Yeah. And, the other night, at the fishing pond, Edelgard approached me…” Byleth trailed off, remembering her promise of secrecy to the imperial princess. 

“I-is that so? What about?” asked Dimitri, trying to restrain his curiosity. 

“She told me that she had overheard my discussion with Hanneman. About my crest,” Byleth answered.

“That seems rather rude. Why would she admit to such a thing?” Dimitri said indignantly. 

“I’m not sure. She told me a tale about her past, but didn’t really ask me for anything. I’m going to keep my eye on her, though. Claude, too,” said Byleth. 

“Probably for the best. They’re probably just interested in political nonsense,” said Dimitri. 

“You’re probably right.” 

“I’ll be more diligent in assisting you and Jeralt from now on, you have my word. But for now, why don’t we forget about all that and enjoy the evening?” offered Dimitri, as they rounded the corner to the garden. 

“A fine idea,” Byleth agreed. She inhaled deeply. “You smell that?” 

“Smell what?” 

“The air. I can smell rain. It’s probably going to storm soon,” said Byleth. 

“Oh! I see. We can head back, if you want,” Dimitri offered. 

“No, the rain doesn’t bother me. Unless it does you?”

“Not at all!”

“Good,” said Byleth with a smile. They took a seat at the patio in the garden. “You know, Dimitri, sometimes I want to go back to those days. Back when we were children.” 

“I do too. But what brings this up? Anything in particular?” he said. 

“No, just reminiscing. Nowadays, I don’t speak with Mother Rhea as often, which I’m happy about. I love being a professor at the academy. But despite that, I sometimes wish I could be frozen in time in the Lone Moon of 1176,” said Byleth. 

“I understand. There are some days where I feel the same. But in spite of all we’ve each gone through, we must push forward and create a better tomorrow. I know we can do it,” he said. 

“You’ve grown a lot, Dimitri. You used to be so timid. I’m proud to see how much you’ve changed,” Byleth praised. 

“I appreciate that, but I’m afraid most of the changing I’ve done has not been for the better,” said Dimitri. 

“Even if that’s true, I’ll accept you anyway. You did the same for me,” Byleth replied, smiling genuinely. 

A few raindrops began to fall, but neither prince nor professor paid them any mind. In the tender moment they shared, Dimitri could feel her fingertips ghosting over his in the grass. He was suddenly hyper aware of every line on her face, of the faint scars that painted her visage like freckles. The raindrops, which were picking up in intensity, stuck in her dark eyelashes, and her nose was pink from the cool wind. The prince stopped himself from seeking more contact, although he wished so much to hold her hand more, to hug her tightly, or something more. 

“Dimitri,” she said finally, breaking eye contact to look toward the sky. “We might catch a cold if we stay out here much longer.” 

“Ah…” he said. He had not noticed how the two of them had gotten drenched in the now steady rain. They stood up, their clothes stained and messy from the muddy grass. The flower garland around Dimitri’s neck had started to shed and wilt. 

“Seems we got a little carried away. Let’s head inside,” said Byleth, leading the way. 

“Yes, let’s. It’s getting a bit late, anyway,” said Dimitri. 

“I suppose you’re right. I do have some work to get done,” Byleth lamented as they came into the entrance hall. 

“I won’t keep you, then. Let’s plan another free day together again, Byleth. And...thank you for spending the evening with me,” he said, ignoring the stares from other people in the monastery as their clothes dripped water across the floor. 

“Of course. I enjoyed myself. Good night, Dimitri,” 

“Good night, Professor.” 

* * *

Thirtieth of the Garland Moon, 1180. The Blue Lions House arrived in Gautier territory, having received a report that Miklan’s gang would easily be cornered at Conand Tower in Fraldarius territory. They had the support of the Knights of Seiros; much to Byleth’s chagrin, Gilbert was there as well. The professor noticed how Annette snuck glances in his direction, and how the knight seemed oblivious to her presence. She had to push it to the back of her mind, as she needed to focus on the task at hand. 

The ground and air was still damp from the previous rain, and the solemn bunch trudged their way to the tower. Inside was like a spiraling maze of ruins, crawling with thieves ready to ambush them. The class made their trek to the inner chamber, where the leader Miklan no doubt awaited, careful and deliberate, as the halls left room for a surprise attack at the rear. 

When they finally reached Miklan, he stood with a chilling smirk on his face. The fearsome weapon he wielded was no doubt the Lance of Ruin. Although she couldn’t see it well from a distance, its pronged spikes seemed made of stone, and the crest stone sat in its center. 

“We’re here for the Lance of Ruin, Miklan! Hand it over. I don’t want to humiliate you but I will,” Byleth heard Sylvain call out from behind her. 

“Hahaha! They sent a bunch of spoiled rotten children after me!?” Miklan yelled. He swung the Lance of Ruin over his head, a crazed look in his eyes. “Like hell I’m gonna hand it over!” 

From within the crest stone itself, tendrils of black matter sprung forth, slowly creeping up Miklan’s arm. He yelled, panicked, trying desperately to fight it off. His resistance only seemed to fuel how quickly the darkness overtook him. As Miklan’s body contorted grotesquely into an inhuman form, Byleth wished she had enough hands to cover the eyes of each of her students. 

**Haha. You were all told** **_specifically_ ** **not to use a Hero’s Relic without a crest.**

Ignoring Sothis and her growing headache, Byleth readied her blade. It seemed the battle was not yet over. 

Where Miklan once stood was a terrifying demonic beast, its roar shaking the ruins. The crest of Gautier was planted in its forehead-reminding Byleth of the Immaculate One. 

**Normal attacks aren’t going to work against this one. You’ll need to weaken it with magic before you try and kill it.**

She was curious to know how Sothis knew how to battle such a beast, but Byleth was nevertheless grateful for the advice. Commanding Annette and Mercedes to cast magic to weaken the beast’s defense, she instructed the rest of her students to remain at a safe distance. There was no telling how unpredictable the monster might be. 

For a moment, she caught a glimpse of Sylvain’s face. Rather than shock, grief, or fear, his face only showed evidence of overwhelming disappointment. Byleth figured she would talk to him later. 

Annette fired Excalibur, and the monster let out a deafening roar; Byleth took that as her cue to move in with her sword and bring the nightmare to an end. In a flash of light, the beast’s body disintegrated, leaving behind the Lance of Ruin and Miklan’s lifeless body. 

“Well, that’s that,” said Sylvain, stepping forward next to Byleth. “Shall we get going then, Professor?” 

“Yes,” replied Byleth quietly, solemnly picking up the Lance of Ruin. Behind her the students stood wearing a variety of emotions on their faces. Fear, Byleth decided, was the most prominent one. Dealing with the aftermath was sure to be difficult. 

~~~~

Byleth steeled herself in the audience chamber, waiting to meet with Rhea for an impromptu debriefing following the concerning events in Faerghus. 

“Hello, dear child,” Rhea greeted.

“Hello, Mother Rhea.” 

“It seems there were some rather unfortunate events that transpired with Miklan,” said the archbishop. 

“Yes. It was a horrible sight to behold,” Byleth said. 

“His transformation into a black beast in my eyes was nothing short of divine punishment from the goddess. Punishment for someone arrogant and foolish enough to use a Hero’s Relic even though they were unworthy and unqualified!” Rhea exclaimed.

“Were you aware, Mother Rhea? What would happen if someone without a crest got ahold of the lance?” Byleth asked point blank.

“Yes, of course I was. Why did you think we were in such a hurry to retrieve it? See to it that you and the students keep what transpired at the tower to yourselves,” Rhea answered.

“Why?” 

“People would lose faith in the nobles should word get out about one using a Relic and transforming into a monster. All of Fódlan would fall into chaos,” she replied.

“I feel like this is something I should have known about. What else are you keeping from me?” Byleth confronted. 

“Please, Byleth. Everything will come in due time. I can feel it-the goddess’s power is awakening within you. There’s plenty of time,” said Rhea. 

“It’s just difficult to keep being patient,” Byleth said. 

“I know. But patience shall be a virtue. Now, the church is to formally return the Lance or Ruin to House Gautier. If you would…” Rhea held out her hands. 

“No. I cannot,” Byleth refused, holding her stance. 

“Excuse me? What is the meaning of this?!” Rhea hissed angrily. 

Just as Byleth had instructed him to, Sylvain appeared from behind the doorway. She had a feeling that, if Rhea got ahold of the Lance of Ruin, Sylvain and his family would never see the Relic again. 

“Lady Rhea. Professor Byleth had already been in agreement with myself and Margrave Gautier that the lance would be placed in my care. Thank you graciously for your understanding,” said Sylvain, bowing deeply as he took the weapon from Byleth. 

“I see. You are dismissed, Sylvain,” Rhea said shortly. Byleth gave him a brief look of reassurance, and he departed. 

“So, child. When did you become so interested in the Hero’s Relics?” said Rhea when they were alone again. 

“You misunderstand, Mother Rhea. The margrave pressured me, and you must know how noblemen can act-“ 

**I should start keeping track of all your lies. You’ll get yourself in trouble if I don’t.**

“Byleth. I won’t hear your excuses. To think that you would continue to disrespect me here…” the archbishop trailed off, and then a look on her face-like a fire had been lit behind her eyes. 

“Mother Rhea?” 

“Byleth. I’ve a wonderful idea. Since you are so fixated on the Relics, I will help you sate your curiosity. I shall meet you in the Holy Tomb after nightfall. We can’t let you lose sight of your purpose,” said Rhea. “You are dismissed.” 

Byleth took her leave wordlessly, shuddering at the thought of finding herself in the accursed Tomb once again. 

~~~~

The emerald glow of the Holy Tomb was an ominous reminder of events that had once transpired to Byleth. To the outside, the tomb was a sacred place, the eternal resting grounds for all things holy and blessed. For Byleth it was more akin to a personal hell. 

Rhea awaited her, wearing an ensemble she had never seen before. She donned sandals, a long toga with deep cutouts on each leg with golden adornments, white lilies pinned in her hair, and a winged, golden headdress. Her aura was unlike that of her presence as the archbishop-she seemed like a completely different person. 

“Hello, Mother Rhea. What is this outfit?” Byleth asked. 

“It is…traditional garb, befitting of what is to take place,” Rhea said cryptically. 

“And what _is_ to take place?” replied Byleth

“It is time that you inherit a sacred relic. With tensions rising, I want you to be as best equipped as you can to protect the church, and the goddess’s honor,” Rhea said, turning to the casket behind her. 

“I see,” said Byleth as Rhea fumbled around in the coffin. She pulled out a sword, made out of the same stony material as the Lance of Ruin she had seen previously. 

“This is the Sword of the Creator, wielded by Nemesis himself,” Rhea said, holding the blade reverently in her hands. 

“So Nemesis had a Relic as well. I didn’t know the church was in possession of it,” said Byleth. 

“Of course we were. We cannot allow the Hero’s Relics to fall into the hands of anyone except their rightful owner,” said Rhea. 

“Meaning, those who bear their crests?” 

“Exactly.” 

“Say…” Byleth looked at the blade’s center, where there was an empty hole. “Is this one missing a crest stone?” 

“It is. It was once thought lost along with the Crest of Flames itself. But now that you’re here, dear child, perhaps this Relic can find its master once more.” 

Byleth’s hand hovered over the sword, and she was struck with an immediate sense of dread. Like a gust of wind that took her breath away, or the split second of panic of panic while taking a step down on a stair that isn’t there, the feeling made her physically recoil. 

“Now’s not the time to get cold feet, dear,” said Rhea. Byleth could tell that her patience was wearing thin as she tried to quiet down the whispering in the back of her head. 

“I-I’m trying, but I don’t know if I can do it…” Byleth said weakly. 

“Don’t turn your back on the goddess now, Byleth. Take the sword,” Rhea commanded. 

“I can’t,” she said through trembles. Her forehead crinkled with anger, Rhea took Byleth’s hand and forcefully placed it on the blade, wrapping their fingers around the handle. An excruciating jolt of pain shot up Byleth’s arm, and it felt like something burst inside her. 

“Gh- _AHHH!!_ -” she screamed, but was cut off by Rhea’s hand over her mouth. 

“Hush now, child. Please don’t make so much noise,” she said dryly. 

Byleth looked down at the Sword of the Creator-it glowed ominously, and the once fossil-like appearance of the material was unrecognizable. It pulsated grotesquely, as though the weapon itself were alive. As she tried to wrest away the awful feelings, she found comfort in the faces of her father and Dimitri, who she imagined as she shut her eyes tightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please follow me on twitter for updates! owo twitter.com/wingberry


	6. Abyss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Blue Sea Moon brings about even more mystery within the church, as well as the discovery of Abyss. Featuring a returning face, the Ashen Wolves, and Jealousmitri >:3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone's doing well! Sorry that there aren't as many Dimileth moments in this chapter-I promise I'll make up for it soon! >:3 I wanted to have some fun with this and incorporate the new DLC in a way that still makes sense with the story.
> 
> Remember to like comment and subscribe-I mean, leave kudos, comment, and subscribe ;) 
> 
> Follow me on twitter @itswingberry wheeee

* * *

The Blue Sea Moon saw the return of the Blue Sea star to the sky once more. Believed to be the goddess’s home, the people of Fódlan prayed for her return during the Goddess’s Rite of Rebirth-one of the most important annual events in the Church of Seiros. The Blue Lions had been tasked for the month with helping the Knights of Seiros with security for the event. Even though Byleth was a professor, as the archbishop’s successor, her role in the ceremony overshadowed her duties for the mission. She was confident in her students’ abilities should anything happen without her, and the Knights of Seiros would be there to guide them.

After the fateful night during which she had been forced to wield the Sword of the Creator for the first time, Byleth had mastered the Relic with ease. As though the blade were created specifically for her to wield, she now carried it on her back at all times. She noticed how the students whispered, and she could tell they all wanted to know more about her mysterious Hero’s Relic.

On the fifth of the Blue Sea Moon, Byleth sat alone in the dining hall. She shoveled food into her mouth, ravenous after a full evening of training after classes for the day.

“Easy there, kid. You’ll choke,” she heard her father joke from behind her. 

“You’re late,” she said as he took the seat across from her. 

“I’m well aware. My scouting mission kept me late today. Oddly enough, there was a demonic beast roaming around in the forest,” Jeralt said. 

“A demonic beast? How’d it get there?” asked Byleth, concerned. 

“We found no traces of where it could have come from. Eventually we had to call it a day,” he answered. 

“Hm...” Byleth hummed thoughtfully around a mouthful of Daphnel stew. 

“So. That Relic on your back. Rhea gave it to you?” Jeralt asked. Byleth chuckled.

“Forced it on me. She and I mastered it, in the Holy Tomb,” Byleth replied, the mention of the Holy Tomb leaving a bitter taste on her tongue.

“Damn it all. That woman is fucking unpredictable,” said Jeralt, clearly angered. 

“Dad, _language._ We’re in public,” Byleth scolded. 

“Does it look like I care? Goddess…” said Jeralt. 

“I didn’t mean to make you angry.” 

“I’m not mad at _you_ By, I just...I wish I could do more for you,” Jeralt said, his voice softening. 

“I know. By the way...did you know that I had a crest?” Byleth asked. 

“Did I _know?_ No. Did I suspect that you did? Yeah. So, which crest is it? I’m not really all too familiar with them,” Jeralt answered.

“The Crest of Flames. Nemesis’s crest,” Byleth said. 

“Now _that’s_ something I didn’t expect to hear. So your crest lets you wield that sword?” 

“Yes, the Sword of the Creator. But there’s something different about it, it’s different from the other Relics. Look,” Byleth said, pulling the weapon off her back. She pointed to the hilt of the sword. “See the hole right here?” 

“Yeah. It almost looks like something is missing.” 

“I think something _is_ missing. The crest stone. I saw one on the Lance of Ruin, and in the diagrams I’ve seen in the library. Why am I able to use its full power if the stone is missing?” Byleth asked. 

“Hm. Beats me. I _am_ wondering, though…” Jeralt trailed off.

“Wondering what? Tell me.” 

“Oh, Byleth…” Jeralt sighed deeply, resting his elbows on the table as more and more dining hall patrons slowly trickled out of the room. “This isn’t really something I’ve ever talked with you about, but I think you should know. It’s about how I came to be a knight here, at the monastery.” 

“Yes? Go on.” 

“Before I lived here, I was a knight of Faerghus. One day, I was hired to personally escort Rhea back to Garreg Mach. There was an assassination attempt on her. I threw myself in front of an attack meant for her, and was wounded. I shouldn’t have survived…” 

“Yet here you are.” 

“Here I am. Rhea says she revived me with healing magic, but what she doesn’t know is that I was conscious for it. For when she gave me her own blood. She did it so...swiftly, cleanly, expertly....you would have thought it was something she had done a million times. I think her blood gave me a powerful crest,” said Jeralt. 

“Ah…” said Byleth, the proverbial gears in her head starting to turn.

“It may not have anything to do with...well, anything, but perhaps somehow that potent power from my blood somehow got passed on to you?” said Jeralt. 

“Thanks for telling me that story, Dad. Good to know it takes you about nineteen years to tell your child something so important!” Byleth teased. 

“Better late than never,” he responded with a slight smile.

“But, sorry to say I don’t think that really has any bearing on me being able to wield this Hero’s Relic,” Byleth deadpanned, and Jeralt’s smile quickly disappeared.

“Welp. I tried,” he said. 

“I know. Just teasing you. Maybe at this rate, you’ll tell me more about Mom soon,” Byleth said. Jeralt’s brow furrowed, his sudden concern plain on his face.

“Kid, I-“ he started defensively.

“It’s okay, Dad. I know we’ll talk about it eventually,” Byleth said, interrupting him. 

**Don’t ask about something you might not want to know about!**

“Hey, it's getting late, but how about we plan on having that conversation next time? Maybe we can go out hunting or something,” said Jeralt. 

“Yeah, of course,” Byleth agreed. “You know where to find me.”

“Naturally. Night, Byleth.” 

“Good night, Dad.” 

* * *

The twelfth of the Blue Sea Moon brought Saint Cethleann Day. Although it was minor, it was an official church holiday, and Byleth celebrated traditionally by singing hymns in the cathedral with some of the Blue Lions students. She heard Dimitri and a couple others stumble over a few of the lyrics in their recital, and it amused the young professor. Worshippers were expected to keep their heads down, eyes closed, and hands clasped together, but Byleth noticed Dimitri sneaking quick glances at her. She didn’t know why, but it made her feel happy. 

As it came to be tradition with everyone’s birthday, Byleth awaited Flayn on the Star Terrace to celebrate over tea. Coincidentally, the young girl shared her day of birth with the day dedicated to her favorite saint.

“So how old are you turning this year, Flayn?” Byleth asked. The green haired girl giggled.

“How old do _you_ think I am?” she asked. “Mm! What kind of tea is this, Byleth?” she added before Byleth could reply. 

“Sweet apple blend. Is it too sweet?” she answered. 

“Not at all. It’s quite delightful!” Flayn said happily. 

“I’m glad. Say, it’s been several years since you came to the monastery. Since Seteth was here before then, why didn’t you come sooner?” Byleth asked curiously. 

“Well, truth be told, I was hiding,” said Flayn, seemingly flustered by the question. 

“Hiding? From what?” 

“Brother says it was for my safety. My blood is extremely rare, and he is certain there are many who would harm me for it,” Flayn explained.

“I see. Is it your crest? I was certain there were others that shared the Crest of Cethleann,” said Byleth.

“There certainly are, but mine is a major crest. That makes my blood much more powerful,” said Flayn. 

“Do you know who, specifically, would be after you for your blood?” 

“My, my!” Flayn exclaimed, laughing. “I thought you wanted to invite me to a tea party, not an interrogation, Sister Byleth!” 

“Ah, my apologies, Flayn. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. There’s been a weird group of assassins after me before. I would hate for them to come for you, too,” said Byleth. 

“Yes, I heard as much. But with you to protect me, I’m sure I’ll be fine!” Flayn said reassuringly. 

“Haha, well, I’m glad to hear you have faith in me. You know I’d do everything I can to protect you,” Byleth replied. 

“Of course. Well, thank you so much for the tea. I was honored by your invitation. Let’s do it again sometime!” said Flayn, bidding her goodbye.

“Likewise. Goodnight, and happy birthday again, Flayn.” 

* * *

Byleth was relieved as the days of the Blue Sea Moon passed without incidence. Class and monastery duties went swimmingly, and although the workload was heavy in preparation for the Rite of Rebirth, everything was going as planned. Despite being such a young, unconventional professor in the Officers Academy, Byleth received positive feedback from the faculty as her students made strides in their studies. On the evening of the twenty-fourth of the Blue Sea Moon, as she did many nights when sleep evaded her, Byleth walked the monastery grounds alone. A rustle in the bushes and the faintest sound of clinking metal brought her palm instinctively to the handle of the Sword of the Creator. 

“Hello?” she called out boldly. No answer. 

**You’re always so paranoid. It’s just the wind.**

She kept walking, instead heading in the direction of her private quarters, thoroughly unnerved. Hyper vigilant to every whisper of the wind, every animal’s call, Byleth rose to her tiptoes as she walked as briskly and quietly as possible. These efforts were in vain as a purple silhouette flashed across her field of vision. 

“Good evening, Your Grace,” a smooth, masculine voice came from behind her. “Sorry, but we’re gonna go for a _little_ trip.” 

Before Byleth could respond or turn around to face him, a cloth was brought over her nose and mouth. A sickly sweet, noxious odor assaulted her senses as her vision blurred and she felt herself enveloped in warm arms. 

* * *

The twenty-third of the Blue Sea Moon. Dimitri sat alone in the library after classes, rushing through his written work, eager to move on to physical training. He was surprised when Dedue walked up to his table, who was supposed to meet him at the training grounds.

“Hello, Dedue. What can I do for you? I thought we were supposed to meet later,” said Dimitri. 

“Yes, and my apologies for interrupting, Your Highness. But you have just received this letter. It looks to be of importance,” said Dedue. 

“Indeed. It bears the Blaiddyd crest,” said Dimitri, tearing open the envelope. 

Inside was a detailed account of a series of alarming events transpiring in Faerghus. Citing a faction of dissenters from the Western Church, the letter reported that a battle held between a small platoon from the Knights of Seiros and a militia group led by Lord Lonato brought his untimely demise. 

_“Just what we needed- MORE unrest within the Kingdom…”_ Dimitri thought to himself. 

“What is wrong, Your Highness? You’ve gone pale,” asked Dedue. 

“More conflict within the Kingdom, it seems. I apologize, Dedue, but I won’t make it to training tonight. There’s something I need to do,” said Dimitri, packing up his things. 

“Very well. I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” Dedue said. 

Recalling that Ashe had gardening duty for the day, Dimitri trudged his way to the greenhouse. 

~~~~

“Oh, Your Highness! I’m a bit surprised to see you here,” said Ashe, waving to Dimitri with a gloved hand as he entered. 

“Hello, Ashe,” Dimitri said, concern apparent in his voice. 

“What’s the matter? You look...worried,” Ashe said quietly, approaching him.

“Ashe, I feel it’s my responsibility to do this. There’s no easy way to say this, but...I received a letter. Lord Lonato is...he has passed away,” Dimitri said, doing his best not to let his voice falter.

“...What? How can that be..?” Ashe responded. Dimitri felt his heart sink as he heard the slightest crack in his voice. 

“Lord Lonato headed a militia group against the Knights of Seiros, on behalf of the Western Church. It seems they highly opposed the Central Church, and-” said Dimitri.

“But how can this be? Lonato was always such a kind man, and even if all this were true, he would never drag the commonfolk into his matters!” Ashe’s voice grew louder as tears formed in his pale green eyes. 

“Ashe, I’m so sorry…” was all Dimitri could say.

“No, I’m the one who should be apologizing, Your Highness. I shouldn’t burden you with this. Thank you for delivering the message,” Ashe said through a hiccup as he tried to stifle a sob. 

“I know this may not help at all, but I know how you feel, Ashe. I lost my father, my stepmother, and some of my closest friedns years ago. My own father was killed right before my very eyes. Take all the time you need. The wound will never truly heal, but it will get better over time,” Dimitri said, offering his companionship to a friend and classmate in need. 

“Your Highness, I...thank you,” said Ashe, wiping tears away with his sleeve. 

“And if you’d like me to complete your homework for you for the next couple days, you need only ask!” the prince added. 

“The sentiment is appreciated, but I could never,” said Ashe. 

“Will you at least allow me to finish up your gardening duties for the day?” Dimitri replied, knowing fully how much he struggled with such delicate work himself. 

“I suppose that would be much appreciated...thank you so much. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’d prefer to be alone now,” Ashe said, his voice still shaky.

“Yes, of course. Leave the rest of the work to me,” said Dimitri graciously. “And please feel free to sit out for the mission if you need to.” 

“I’ll repay you soon, I-I promise! Thank you again,” said Ashe. 

“No need, my friend. Please, get some rest,” Dimitri assured him.

Dimitri’s job in the greenhouse was, to be frank, mediocre at best. It was partly due to his clumsiness with meticulous work, but also due to his distracted thoughts as he processed the information. Perhaps, he thought, the Western Church dissenters had some connections to the mysterious assailants that came after Byleth. Tensions were sure to continue to rise in Fódlan if the problem was not nipped in the bud, so Dimitri resolved to seek out Byleth at his next available free moment. 

Dimitri froze when he turned and saw the face of Glenn behind the corpse flower.

“It gets better with time? Is that what you said to him?” Glenn said, his words sharp and mocking. Dimitri didn’t answer. 

“That’s obviously a lie. I mean, look at you!” he continued. “You know what makes it better, don’t you Dimitri?” 

Dimitri swallowed dryly, unable to look Glenn in the eyes. His image of his face faded in and out between that of the kind man he remembered, a ghastly corpse’s face drenched in blood, and a hollow skull. 

“Yes. I swear I haven’t forgotten, Glenn. I shall avenge you,” Dimitri whispered. 

“Good. We’re counting on you, Dimitri,” Glenn said, disappearing from view.

Dimitri sped out of the greenhouse as quickly as he could, desperate for escape.

* * *

Byleth awakened on a soft mattress, a thick blanket draped over her. The dark room was illuminated by a single candle. Devoid of windows, she was surrounded on all sides by walls made of stone. The air was damp, musty, and stifling, smelling not altogether unpleasant, but certainly not fresh.

“Mornin’, sunshine. Good to see you awake,” came a voice from the doorway. Byleth recognized it as the one who ambushed her, and she reached for her weapon that wasn’t there. 

“Your fancy sword’s over there in the corner,” said the figure. He pointed toward the Sword of the Creator, which had been placed carefully on the ground next to a desk. 

Byleth scrambled out of bed to retrieve it, tripping in the process; fatigue and grogginess still clouded her. 

“Easy there. Everything’s fine,” said the man. Finally able to get a good look at him, Byleth second guessed her assumption that _this_ was the one who had so skillfully blindsided her. His build was thin and limber, and his lavender hair was neatly styled. His face was feminine and soft-by all accounts one of the more attractive people Byleth had encountered in her life. He donned an outfit resembling an Officers Academy uniform, but Byleth was sure she’d never seen him in any of the classes or even on the monastery grounds before. 

“You’ve got some explaining to do. Now, before I slice your tongue out of your mouth,” she instructed.

“Haha! That’s fair. What do you want to know first?” he crossed his arms and smirked. 

“Who are you?” 

“Name’s Yuri. And you are Byleth, right?” he answered. 

“Yes.” 

“That’s good! Means I got the right person,” Yuri laughed. 

“And _why,_ exactly, did you kidnap me in the first place?” she asked indignantly. 

“‘Kidnap’ is kind of a strong word, don’t you think? I’ll explain everything soon, but I can tell you that I mean no harm. I was simply following a lead to protect you,” said Yuri. 

“Very well. even if you are planning something against me, I’m sure I could take you blindfolded,” Byleth said. 

**You are so gullible. Every day you surprise me in a new way that we haven’t been killed yet.**

“I don’t doubt it,” Yuri said. Every word that escaped his mouth had a sarcastic edge to it, and Byleth couldn’t yet decide whether that fact endeared him to her, or enraged her. 

“Where have you taken me, then? Where are we?” she asked finally. 

“Garreg Mach…kind of. Here, why don’t I take you on a little tour? I’m sure things will start to make more sense then,” Yuri suggested. 

“Okay…” Byleth agreed warily, keeping the Sword of the Creator unsheathed by her side. 

Yuri led Byleth out of the room out into a hallway, still surrounded on all sides by stone walls. The musty smell was stronger, and she could hear running water and muffled chatter faintly in the distance. 

“Let’s walk and talk, shall we, my little archbishop-to-be?” Yuri said. Byleth met him with silence. 

“Any idea of where we are?” he asked. 

“No.” 

“Then I guess it’s safe to assume that Rhea never told you about this place. Ever heard of Abyss?” Yuri asked. 

“I have not,” Byleth said, looking from side to side at the rooms they passed by. A couple people sat around near piles of scrap metal, and in another room was a woman dressed in silken robes in front of a crystal orb. 

“Well you’re in Abyss, sweetheart! Abyss is the name for our little underground city here under Garreg Mach,” explained Yuri. 

“We’re...under Garreg Mach?” Byleth asked incredulously.

“Sure are.”

“And this is all…allowed?” 

“Abyss is a haven for those who have been shunned by the goddess’s light. Orphans, the disenfranchised, the indebted, disowned nobles, and yes-even some criminals all find a place here in Abyss,” said Yuri passionately. 

“I had no clue a place like this existed. Why wouldn’t Rhea have told me?” Byleth mused. 

“Can’t answer that one. Although, if I’m being honest, it surprises me too.”

“It’s a bit appalling that people are forced to live underground just because they’ve somehow run into misfortune,” said Byleth.

“I’m a little shocked to hear you say such a thing, Your Grace. After all, you are to succeed the one that insists we stay hidden,” Yuri said. 

“Hm…” Byleth mumbled. 

They rounded the corner, greeted by a bustling marketplace. Children ran around playing, folks chatted with one another, and merchants peddled their wares to any passersby who would listen. It truly was like an underground city. 

“There they are. Your Grace, follow me,” said Yuri. 

“Please, simply Byleth is fine,” she said. 

“Okay then, _Byleth,_ ” Yuri savored the name on his tongue. He led them up to a group of people donning similar uniforms to Yuri. “Let me introduce you to my crew.” 

“She looks a lot different than I imagined,” interrupted a girl with red hair, her voice quiet and sharp. 

“”Please, Hapi, be respectful! This is the next archbishop, after all!” said a girl with blond hair and an elegant air about her. 

“Settle down, guys. Ashen Wolves, meet Byleth. Byleth, meet the Ashen Wolves,” said Yuri, gesturing to the three eccentric looking individuals before her.

“The Ashen Wolves..?” said Byleth. 

“This is Balthus. He used to be a Leicester Alliance noble, but he got himself into some deep shit and is now hiding from bounty hunters,” said Yuri. 

“I’d call it unfortunate circumstances. Great to meet ya!” said Balthus, offering a firm handshake. 

“Likewise,” said Byleth. The dark haired man wore a uniform like those of the Officers Academy, but Byleth was sure the way it bared his chest would violate dress code. 

“And this-“ Yuri started, but was interrupted. 

“I am Constance Von Nuvelle! I will restore the glory of my house in the Empire through my greatness and magical prowess!” the blonde woman exclaimed as though she were performing a dramatic play.

“Nice to meet you. Not to be insensitive, but what is an Empire noble doing here?” asked Byleth.

“House Nuvelle is in shambles, and don’t exactly find much favor in the Empire,” Yuri said, to which Constance shot a piercing glare. 

“Ah.”

“And this is Hapi. She grew up in a remote village in the Kingdom. Her...unique abilities keep her confined to Abyss. Hopefully you never have to find out firsthand what exactly those abilities are,” Yuri said, pointing to the bored-looking girl with red hair. 

“Thanks for making me sound like a feral animal, Yuri-bird,” said Hapi. It seemed her attitude was enough to rival even Yuri’s. 

“Nice to meet you all,” Byleth said politely with a bow. “Now can you please explain why you kidnapped me, Yuri?” 

“Sure. As I mentioned before, there are bad as well as good people in Abyss. Well, some chump got a _little_ drunk in the bar the other night, and completely blurred out to me an assassination plan he had been hired for. With you as the target, Your Holiness!” said Yuri. 

“I see. That wouldn’t be the first time someone’s had it out for me,” Byleth said. 

“That so? Hm. Well, in any case, not very many folks know about this place. I doubt they’ll find you here,” said Yuri.

“I’ll definitely need to be going soon, though. The Goddess’s Rite of Rebirth is soon,” said Byleth. 

“No can do. My intel says they planned to take you out during the ceremony. Sounded kind of cultish to me. You’ll need to stay here until after the event,” Yuri argued. 

“I’d rather take my chances with an assassin group than face Rhea after missing the ceremony. She isn’t aware that I’m here, correct?” 

“Not currently, but just between us, I report to her, somewhat. A little mutual back-scratching to keep Abyss safe and hidden,” said Yuri. 

“Byleth!!” 

She immediately recognized the voice yelling behind her. Dimitri, clad in armor and uniform, was running toward her from a distance. She was completely endeared by the relief she saw in his eyes, but was shocked to see him. 

“Who in the hell…?” Yuri muttered, reaching for his sheathed sword. 

“Dimitri. What are you doing here?” asked Byleth. Yuri took her tone of familiarity as a cue to stand down. 

“I could ask the same of you! Are you alright? Are you hurt?” he said, panicking. He placed both hands on her shoulders, and Byleth was suddenly hyper aware of his touch. 

“I’m okay, for the most part. Just a little confused. Did you know about this place?” said Byleth.

“No. I had been searching all over the monastery for you. We’ve all been terrified after you didn’t show up to class. I found a mysterious hole in the ground in a secluded corner near the cemetery- eventually I found myself here,” Dimitri explained. 

“Show up for class..? What day is it?” Byleth asked carefully. 

“It is the night of the twenty-fifth. Well, at this hour it might be closer to the twenty-sixth,” answered Dimitri. 

“It’s been a full day? You knocked me out for a full day and you didn’t bother to tell me?” Byleth said angrily, turning to Yuri. 

“You didn’t let me get to that part. But I still stand by my words-you can’t leave Abyss until _after_ the Goddess’s Rite of Rebirth,” he replied. 

“It seems you’ve got your hands full, Yuri. We’ll catch up with you later,” Balthus cut in, leading Hapi and Constance away. 

“Slackers…” Yuri muttered after them. 

“What is going on?” asked Dimitri. 

“Basically, this guy here knocked me out and kidnapped me-“

“ _What!?”_

“No, relax, it's okay. I think? Anyway, I’ll explain later,” said Byleth. 

“How about I show you to the watering hole? You little lovebirds can work everything out there,” Yuri said cheekily. He laughed at the blush forming across Dimitri’s face. 

“Very funny. But yes, please show us the way.” 

~~~~

The bar in Abyss was lacking, to say the least. The interior was plain, and the smell of cheap ale mixed unpleasantly with the faint smell of sewage and rust. There were only a few patrons inside, so Byleth explained everything to Dimitri in a hushed voice. In return, he told her about his findings with unrest toward the church. 

“Perhaps the individuals targeting you are among those dissentera. I’m sure the death of any figure within the Central Church would give them the upper hand,” suggested Dimitri. 

“That may be true, but I can’t shake the feeling there’s more to it…” replied Byleth. 

“Excuse me?” 

They were interrupted by an elderly man approaching their table. 

“Yes, sir? May we help you with something?” Dimitri asked politely. 

“My name is Jacob. Please pardon my rudeness, but you wouldn’t happen to be related to someone named Sitri, would you?” he asked softly. Byleth froze at the mention of her late mother. 

“Sitri...was my mother,” she said. 

“Was?” the man echoed sadly. There was a moment of solemn silence. 

“Please, sit down,” Byleth offered, pulling out a chair for him. “You knew my mother?”

“I did. Before I was banished to Abyss, I was acquainted with Sitri during my time as a monk at Garreg Mach,” said the man. 

“My father told me she was a nun,” said Byleth. 

“Quite. Your father is Jeralt, yes?” 

“Yes, he is.” the man smiled at Byleth’s response. 

“How did she pass, if I might ask?” As Byleth and the elderly man conversed, she noticed Dimitri’s intense expression from the corner of her eye-he was curious to know more as well. 

“She died giving birth to me. I unfortunately never knew her,” said Byleth. 

“May the goddess bless her soul to rest in peace. She was always sickly and frail. It’s why she never really left the monastery,” said Jacob. 

“I see…” Byleth said. 

“Apologies if I’m overstepping-feel free to ignore the ramblings of this old man,” he said. 

“No, not at all, please-I have not heard much about my mother, so I appreciate your stories,” Byleth said. 

“We were not all that close by any means, but I remember the way she always had her nose in a book. You look so much like her-I suppose that’s why I approached you!” said the old man.

“That makes me happy to hear.” 

“She always had difficulty expressing her emotions, but I’ve never seen her more joyous than when she was with Jeralt. Please be at peace knowing how much they loved each other, and how much they must love you,” he said. 

“Thank you. Your words mean a lot. Please, if there’s anything you need, I am indebted to you,” said Byleth. 

“Oh, not at all my dear. I’m just a silly old man grateful to be alive!” he said, letting out a wheezy laugh. 

“If you don’t mind my asking, sir, how _did_ you come to be banished?” Dimitri interjected after having stayed quiet through their conversation. 

“Well, kiddos. Suffice to say, I saw something I shouldn’t have,” said Jacob, quieter and more serious.

“Where?” pressed Byleth. 

“I wouldn’t want to impart to you any knowledge that could harm you in the future…” he said hesitantly. 

“I am the successor to Archbishop Rhea. Even if it is something I do not know yet, I am sure I will learn of it eventually,” Byleth assured him.

**So that’s lie number...how many is it? I’ve lost track.**

“You are the successor..? Ah. Well, if you insist. Yes, I saw something that I shouldn’t have. It was quite a frightening sight to a young monk like myself. I often assumed the role of errand boy in the church, and I had been running supplies to and from various places in the monastery. One day, I reported to the entirely wrong room. They must have forgotten to lock the door. Inside was some sort of...ceremony? Induction? Ritual? Archbishop Rhea was cutting open her own and other bishops’ flesh with a shard of stone, and funneling her own blood to them, and…” the old man trailed off, cringing at the memory. “After that, I was banished to Abyss and instructed to never speak of the matter again. Or Rhea promised me I would never speak again.” 

“That’s horrific…” said Dimitri in awe. Byleth shook her head in agreement, her head swimming in a flood of disjointed thoughts, remembering how Jeralt had a similar story about Rhea and her blood. 

“I don’t know why she didn’t want me to know about it, aside from the whole thing being awfully _weird._ But if she finds out I spoke about it, my days are numbered,” Jacob said, worried. 

“Don’t worry. I promise we won’t tell a soul.” Byleth assured him. 

“I appreciate it. Now, I must take my leave. But since you seem so interested in forbidden knowledge, dear child, I would urge you to visit Abyss’s shadow library. Many of the books and volumes banned by the church end up there,” suggested Jacob. 

“I appreciate the wisdom, Jacob. I’ve enjoyed speaking with you,” said Byleth. Dimitri and Byleth bid farewell to Jacob as he went on his way. 

“It looks as though Abyss is what you’ve been looking for. You could learn a lot here, and that shadow library seems worth checking out,” said Dimitri. 

“Yes, I agree. But we can save it for another day and come back. Right now, we need to get back as soon as we can. Mother Rhea will have someone’s head if I don’t show up for the Goddess’s Rite of Rebirth,” replied Byleth. 

“Agreed. I’ll lead us back from the way I entered,” said Dimitri.

But, such a feat proved easier said than done. 

“I could have sworn it was around here…” he muttered to himself as they wandered in circles. 

“No worries. We can find another way out,” assured Byleth. 

“Yes. Feel free to go on ahead without me for a moment-I’m going to retrace a couple steps and make sure I didn’t miss anything,” said Dimitri, to which Byleth nodded. 

As she walked alone, Byleth came across a bridge that led out into a chasm. Her footsteps against the stone echoed in the wide expanse, bouncing off the walls as there was nowhere for it to escape. She looked out over the bridge into the pit, of which she could not see the bottom. She kept strolling along solemnly, and saw a lone figure in the distance. While she was weary of them, the surprising majority of folks in Abyss had been cordial thus far, so she wasn’t nervous. 

Her blood went cold as she drew close enough to see his face. 

Flashes of vivid memory invaded her senses. Rhea with a dagger in hand, the gatekeeper from her childhood always greeting her, the terror in his eyes as he stared death in the face, the memory of looking down at her own body as she set him free, never to be seen again-it overtook her mind and the overload of senses seemed to pool sickeningly in her stomach. 

It was him. The gatekeeper of whose name she never knew. 

She collapsed on the floor, unable to shake the whispers in her head and the visions whirring past her line of sight. The gatekeeper came up next to her, and she recoiled. 

“Hey, lady, are you okay?” he asked. Byleth was barely grounded in reality, but she heard his voice clearly. It was much the same as she remembered it, but somehow more gruff, more unrefined. As he tried kneeling down to help her, Byleth couldn’t muster any words, clutching her head in her hands. 

“Byleth!” exclaimed Dimitri from the distance, having returned from his short outing. In an instant, he was cradling her in his arms, wiping away tears she hadn’t noticed were there, saying “It’s me,” softly over and over again. 

“Did you say...Byleth?” asked the gatekeeper, standing up. 

“Yes? Why, pray tell?” answered Dimitri. 

“No, it’s, uh...it’s nothing,” the gatekeeper said, turning around to leave. 

“Wait!” Byleth called out weakly. “Please, let me say something,” she pushed Dimitri away gently and rose to her feet. 

“I’m so sorry for what happened. I never imagined things would turn out the way they did, and it’s all my fault. I can’t fix it, but I’m truly sorry,” she said. The gatekeeper smiled sadly. 

“You know, little princess? I spent a long time being bitter about what happened. How I now have to spend my life down here for something I didn’t do,” he started. Byleth hung her head down in shame. 

“But I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. A stroke of bad luck. You were a child, you didn’t do anything bad. And as for Rhea...Hah. Remember that _you_ are not responsible for anyone else’s actions.” the gatekeeper continued. His pure heart had not faded over time, Byleth was pleased to see. 

“I...I see. Thank you for finding it in your heart to forgive me,” said Byleth. 

“Don’t get it confused. I’m forgiving you for _my_ sake. Not for yours,” he said. 

“I understand,” Byleth said. “Wait! What’s your name?” she asked before they parted ways. 

“I don’t want the church on my ass anymore. So, for that, I’m afraid I’ve got nothing to report. May fortune find you, little one.” 

Byleth turned back to Dimitri, who, seemingly like always, patiently waited for her to explain herself. He looked concerned, nervous, sad-it tugged at Byleth’s heart. He dared not ask her what all the gatekeeper was talking about, but she could sense he was desperate to know. And, having come to consider him one of the only two people in the world she could trust, she resolved it was time for him to know the truth about Rhea. 

“Is now a bad time, Dimitri? I have some things to talk about,” she said meekly, inviting him to sit on the ground near the edge of the bridge with her. 

“Not at all. My time is yours,” he said. 

Byleth explained to him Rhea’s lifelong fanaticism in full. She recounted Rhea’s duality of coddling and cruelty, and of the times in the Holy Tomb. Dimitri was a silent and attentive listener throughout, his brow furrowing and his chin coming to rest between his fingers as Byleth recounted her most intense times of suffering under Rhea’s hand. She ended her explanation with the story of the gatekeeper, and how he faced certain death simply for secretly delivering a letter. 

“Byleth, I…I don’t know what to say,” said Dimitri, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. “I had no idea this had been going on all this time.”

“I didn’t want to worry you, and I didn’t want Mother Rhea to come under any fire. Not yet, anyway,” said Byleth. 

“Archbishop or not, she should atone for her actions. It is unforgivable!” Dimitri insisted. 

“I know. But we can’t have Fódlan going into chaos over something like that. And it might seem weird, but...I still care for her,” Byleth said, adding the last part quieter. 

“How can you? After all she’s done to you?” Dimitri asked. 

“I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. There’s no excuse for what she’s done but...I don’t know. She’s still the only mother I’ve ever known, and she _has_ shown me love just as much as she’s shown me hate,” Byleth said. 

“I cannot believe you would afford her such a high honor,” Dimitri said. 

“Well, whether you can believe it or not, it’s true! Maybe if you had-“ Byleth stopped herself before she said something insensitive. 

“I did, Byleth. My stepmother was the only mother I ever knew,” he said sternly. “I lost both her and my father in Duscur. But she was the kindest person I had ever known. Always patient with everyone, always putting others’ needs before hers.” 

“I’m sorry, Dimitri. You’re right. And I’m sorry for implying that-“ 

“No, no. I apologize, too. I let my emotions get the better of me. I’m sure we’re both under a lot of stress right now,” said Dimitri. 

“Yes, for sure.” 

“But make no mistake. Archbishop Rhea will not be able to escape consequences forever,” said Dimitri with resolve in his voice. 

~~~~

Byleth and Dimitri tracked down Yuri, who was huddled with the other Ashen Wolves on the outskirts of the Abyssian marketplace. 

“Yuri! I need to speak with you,” said Byleth. 

“Can it wait, sweetheart? We’ve got a little situation,” said Yuri. 

“No, it can’t. We need you to tell us how to get out of Abyss,” Byleth insisted. 

“There you go being cute again! I told you, I’ll let you know when it’s safe for you to leave,” Yuri said with a cheeky smile. 

“If Rhea does not know where I am, the lot of you could get in serious trouble,” Byleth said. 

“Psh. We’re already in Abyss. What more is she going to do?” said Hapi. 

“Professor Byleth and I are perfectly capable of defending ourselves if anything should happen,” added Dimitri. 

“I understand. But remember that little situation I told you about? Well, Abyss is currently under attack. Probably something to do with your assassin fan club,” Yuri said. 

“Oh…” said Byleth. 

“Yeah. So, all the more reason for you to stay right where you’re at until everything has calmed down,” said Yuri. 

“Constance and I are gonna go on ahead. It won’t be long till they figure out a way to break through the gate,” said Balthus.

“The magical prowess of Constance von Nuvelle will surely drive away those dastards!” exclaimed Constance. She laughed piercingly as they ran on ahead.

“Yuri. I’m sure you’re aware that I’m quite adept in combat myself. So is Dimitri. If we lend you our aid, will you allow us to go?” Byleth proposed. 

“I don’t know. If anything happened to you, that’s it-no more Abyss,” said Yuri. 

“And if you do not at the _very_ least alert Archbishop Rhea of Byleth’s whereabouts, the same might still hold true!” Dimitri added.

“...Gah, fine! At least I know you two’ll be useful. Alright then, let’s head out. I’ll gather the other troops and lead the way,” Yuri agreed. Nodding, Byleth and Dimitri followed Yuri and Hapi closely behind.

“You seem close with that Yuri figure. Had you two known each other before?” Dimitri asked curiously as Yuri and Hapi led their small group through a series of hallways and passageways. 

“No. I had never seen him before he kidnapped me,” Byleth said. 

“Please don’t make light of such a thing. We were all worried,” said Dimitri. 

“Sorry,” said Byleth. “Why do you ask about Yuri, though?”

“He just spoke to you with such familiarity…” he said, avoiding eye contact. 

“How do you mean? I didn’t take it that way,” said Byleth, tilting her head to the side.

“I don’t know. He called you things like... ‘sweetheart’ and ‘cute’...” he said bashfully, looking down at his boots. 

“Oh. You don’t think I’m cute, then?” Byleth was shocked to hear the words leave her lips. 

**Oh for crying out loud. This is so insufferable.**

“I-what? No! Wait, I mean..! That is to say, I didn’t say you weren’t but...Oh, curse you Professor!” exclaimed Dimitri when he realized she was teasing him. 

“I’m sorry. It’s just so easy to mess with you,” she laughed. 

“Well, at least someone can find enjoyment at my expense,” said Dimitri, happy to see a smile cross her face. 

“Alright, gang, here we are!” Yuri called out from the front of the flank as they arrived at a gate. “There shouldn’t be too many of the fools still prowling about, but stay on guard.” 

They were led through a secret passageway around the gate. “The gate stays _closed,_ ” Yuri said sternly. “We can’t risk any of them getting into Abyss.” 

In the series of expansive ruins, enemies crawled around in the shadows, their light footsteps still audible on the stone floor. Byleth unsheathed her sword, and Dimitri his lance, prepared for battle as others from their ranks engaged the enemy. 

Suddenly, in a blinding flash of light, what was once a handful of opponents turned into dozens. Byleth recognized the masked mages’ garb from the surprise attack at the first mock battle, and she suppressed the urge to vomit, doing her best to ignore her immediate headache. 

“Byleth, stay back! Turn away!” Dimitri yelled, brandishing his silver lance in their direction. 

“Shit! This is bad. _Really_ bad,” said Yuri, panicked. 

“Yuri-bird! Should I sigh?!” Hapi called out. 

_“Sigh?”_ Byleth thought, wondering what that had to do with anything. 

“Gods, I thought you’d never offer! Sigh away!” Yuri yelled back. With the go-ahead from Yuri, Hapi stood calmly and inhaled slowly, then exhaled with a drawled-out, dramatic _sigh!_

In the distance, a rhythmic thumping sensation rumbled the ground, pulling all parties out of the trance of battle. The thumping grew louder, everyone looking wildly around to find the source. 

“You guys _might_ wanna back it up a bit,” said Hapi to Byleth and Dimitri. They were in no place not to comply. 

A trio of demonic beasts burst into the room, immediately singling out their enemies and mowing them down. Although the turning of the tables in their favor was a relief, watching the beasts pick off the enemy was difficult to watch. Byleth wondered if perhaps this is how Dimitri felt watching her take down the assassins at the mock battle. 

When their work was done, the beasts slinked back from where they came, offering no hostility to anyone in their party. 

“I’m happy we won, but also _very_ confused,” said Byleth as they all regrouped. 

“Remember Yuri mentioning that I have certain ‘abilities’?” said Hapi. Byleth and Dimitri nodded. 

“Well, that was it!” Balthus chimed in. “Whenever Hapi sighs, monsters come running!” 

“However did _that_ come to be?” Dimitri asked in disbelief. 

“It’s a long story. Maybe I’ll save it for another time,” said Hapi.

“Regardless, it looks like victory is ours! Yet another win for Constance von Nuvelle!” Constance exclaimed. 

“Well, sweetheart, I’m a man of my word. I’ll lead you on out of Abyss. Oh, and by the way-I sent someone previously to inform the archbishop of your whereabouts. Hopefully she’s not too upset,” said Yuri, grinning mischievously. 

Byleth let her eyes drift around the expansive ruins, left even more wrecked by the demonic beasts. Surrounding them were statues of the four saints; she recognized them well. There were also statues of figures she did not recognize. She knew there was not much time to study them, and added it to her mental list of things to investigate on another trip to Abyss, along with the shadow library.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted another statue of a familiar figure. It was larger and more detailed than the rest, hidden in a corner. The statue of a woman looked exactly like Rhea in the Holy Tomb when she bestowed the Sword of Creator to Byleth. Each detail of the outfit, headdress, sandals, and even the white lilies pinned in her hair were immaculately depicted. Like had been happening so frequently during her investigations, the sight brought a sickness in her stomach. She took a deep breath and steeled herself-there was no time to worry about it currently. 

“Whatcha lookin at?” Yuri said suddenly from behind her. 

“Oh, uh, nothing,” Byleth said, brushing him off. 

“This is supposedly a statue of Saint Seiros. It was banned from the cathedrals-they said it was because it was a little too risqué, but who knows? Now c'mon, it's time to get going,” said Yuri. 

“Right…” Byleth mumbled, lost in thought. 

~~~~

Yuri showed them a way out, and Byleth and Dimitri were relieved to breathe the fresh air. It was dusk, and Byleth felt her heart sink. 

“We missed the Goddess’s Rite of Rebirth…” she mumbled. 

“Don’t worry. Everything will be fine,” Dimitri comforted. “Although I do hope the class was able to manage the mission on their own…” 

“Do you think Lady Rhea will grant us an audience on short notice? I’ll go ahead and go with you to explain things,” said Yuri. 

“I have a feeling she will,” said Byleth. She turned to Dimitri. “I don’t want to get you in any trouble. Head on back to your quarters, and I’ll see you in class, okay?” 

“Are you sure?” Dimitri seemed hesitant. “I can come with you, it’s really no trouble at all.” 

“Thank you, really, but it’ll be fine. I have Yuri here,” Byleth said. She noticed Dimitri clench his jaw ever so slightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” 

“Very well. Good night,” Dimitri said politely, swiftly departing in the other direction. 

“I sense a bit of jealousy! That’s cute,” Yuri said with a laugh. 

“What do you mean?” asked Byleth clueless as they walked in the direction of the audience chamber. 

“Nothing. Don’t worry your pretty head over it! Just take my advice-it’s not a _great_ idea to get into relationships with your students, Professor!” Yuri teased. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. Dimitri and I are old friends. And besides, we’re only two years apart, after all…” Byleth insisted. 

“Hey, you don’t need to explain yourself to me!” said Yuri. Byleth simply shook her head, praying to the goddess that the whole fiasco would be over with soon. Each step they took quickened her pulse as she dreaded seeing Rhea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twitter.com/itswingberry <3 <3


	7. Welcome Respite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth and Dimitri explore the shadow library, Byleth dreams some more, the Blue Lions recruit a new student, and there was only one bed (kind of)!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to balance things out and have a lighter, fluffier chapter here >:3 I took a bit of a break from writing for a bit there, hence the shorter chapter.
> 
> Your kudos and comments mean the world to me, so thanks for continuing to leave them! ;w;

* * *

“...which brings us here,” Yuri concluded in the audience chamber before Rhea, explaining the assassination plan and the attack on Abyss. Rhea held her chin thoughtfully in her fingers.

“I understand the purpose behind your actions. However, to take such brazen initiative without my prior knowledge is a condemnable offense. Even for you, Yuri,” said Rhea. Byleth noticed Yuri’s posture tense up, and his usual come-what-may demeanor was gone. 

“If I may step in, Mother Rhea…” Byleth chimed in. “Without the help of the Ashen Wolves, I am certain the monastery would have suffered damage and potential casualties-during the Goddess’s Rite of Rebirth, no less. The Ashen Wolves severely thinned their numbers, as well. This was the best outcome.” 

“Hm...Perhaps there’s truth to your words. Regardless, it seems a full investigation from the Knights is due” said Rhea, surprisingly amicable. 

“I say this with complete confidence, Mother Rhea,” assured Byleth. 

“Very well. I shall let you off with a warning. You both are dismissed. Byleth, I will be assigning your mission for the Blue Lions shortly,” Rhea said calmly. 

**She’s going way too easy on you fools.** Sothis followed up her words with a yawn. 

“See you later, princess,” whispered Yuri as he quickly bowed and exited the chambers. He slipped away before Byleth could say anything else. 

“Thank you, Mother Rhea. And I apologize again for disturbing you at such a late hour,” said Byleth, bowing deeply as she departed. 

The nighttime breeze was welcome for Byleth after her time cooped up below the ground. She truly took the fresh air for granted. The faint smell of rain tickled her nose-the first sign that the Verdant Rain Moon was upon them. The heavy rains the month was sure to bring would both give new life to the land, as well as unleash potentially destructive storms. The Verdant Rain Moon was a reminder to the people of Fódlan that nature is wildly unpredictable. 

* * *

_She opened her eyes to a familiar meadow, familiar flowers, and a familiar woman. Crouched in the grass, the woman wept, hugging something close to her chest. A Hero’s Relic, one Byleth had never seen before. At this point, she knew trying to speak with her would be fruitless._

As quickly as it happened, Byleth awakened from the dream with a start, as had become frequent as of late. Recurring dreams and visions of the nameless woman had invaded her consciousness more and more. It was a welcome replacement for Sothis’s voice, which had gradually quieted over the last month. Like clockwork, she arose to start the day.

Tasked with mid-year exams for each student at the end of the Verdant Rain Moon, Byleth had her work cut out for her for the month. Taking pride in drafting a personalized study plan for each student, she was sure everyone would pass with flying colors. Slipping a note to Dimitri in his papers one day, Byleth hoped he would follow the instructions hidden inside. 

* * *

The tenth of the Verdant Rain Moon, 1180. Byleth was delighted to see Dimitri stealthily round the corner to their meeting spot. Tucked away behind a hidden wall, the stormy day was perfect for the two to hide in plain sight. 

“It seems you got my message after all. I’m glad you came,” Byleth said, leading them through the tunnel. 

“Of course. This is the area in which I entered Abyss through. We have further business there?” replied Dimitri. His hair was dampened from the rain, and wispy strands of his golden hair clung to his forehead. Byleth found it cute and only a little comical. 

“We’re going to investigate the Shadow Library. Let’s cram all the info we can possibly find in today-I feel bad enough already for using your free day when you could have spent it studying,” said Byleth, her quiet voice echoing off the tunnel walls. 

“Ah, worry not! I’m confident about the exams anyway. I’m happy to help!” Dimitri assured her.

“My coursework is _that_ easy then, huh? I’m wounded,” Byleth teased. Dimitri chuckled. 

“You’ve become quite the kidder, Professor! Did Yuri teach you that?” he asked. 

“What? I had good jokes long before him,” Byleth replied. “Let’s quiet down now. I think we’re almost there.” 

~~~~

After a spat with one of the Abyssian guards, the prince and professor arrived at the library. It was one of the more appealing corners of Abyss, but the stacks and shelves of books seemed impossible to tackle. 

“I’m glad we made it out of that altercation unscathed. I forgot that Abyssians might be averse to those affiliated with the church,” said Dimitri as they scanned the library. 

“It might have helped if you wore something other than your Officers Academy uniform. But everything worked out, I suppose,” Byleth said. 

“Yes, indeed,” Dimitri said. 

“Well, well, look who the cat dragged in!” came a voice behind them. 

“Hello, Yuri,” Byleth greeted him. 

“Hey, Princess. I see you’ve taken my advice about the shadow library. I could help you out. I generally know my way around it,” Yuri offered.

“If you could, that’d be much appreciated. Thank you,” said Byleth. 

“So what kind of information are you after? To help me narrow the selection, I mean,” asked Yuri curiously. 

“If there’s anything on Fódlan history or the Hero’s Relics, that would be helpful,” Byleth answered, to which Yuri let out a melodious laugh. 

“Gonna be honest with you-that doesn’t really narrow things down,” he said. 

“Perhaps anything on those topics that might have been banned by the church?” Dimitri added. 

“We got a couple of budding dissenters, eh? I might have a couple things for ya. Wait here,” said Yuri. 

“You know, you’re a lot stronger than you look,” Byleth commented as Yuri came back with a tall stack of books. 

“It’s nothing!” said Yuri in an obviously strained voice. 

“I'd be happy to help, if you need,” Dimitri chimed in. 

“No need,” Yuri said, releasing the books on their table with a dull _thud._

“That should keep us busy for now. Thanks, Yuri. Cover for us if anyone comes looking,” Byleth said. 

“Keeping secrets is what I do best. Now if you’ll excuse me-important business to attend to. Catch you two later,” said Yuri, waving as he slipped out of the library. 

“This looks like a lot to sift through. Do you think we’ll be able to comb through everything?” said Dimitri. 

“I guess we’ll see. Let’s get started,” said Byleth. 

Much of the text was mundane and irrelevant, and Byleth quickly grew irritated with what little she was finding. She wondered what Yuri was thinking, bringing them so many books with texts conforming to regular church rhetoric. She held back on skimming through too quickly though, lest she miss any sliver of important information. 

“So...how have things been? How have you been feeling?” Dimitri asked, breaking the silence. 

“Fine, fine. I’ve been trying to find a chance to speak with my father about Sitri, but his duties keep him so busy,” said Byleth, not looking up from her endless page flipping. “And, not to mention...” she trailed off. 

“Yes?” said Dimitri. 

“Sothis has been quiet as of late. It’s been...refreshing. I have had episodes from time to time, but they were short lived,” Byleth said. She hoped voicing this truth aloud would not somehow jinx her good luck.

“That’s wonderful! What changed?” Dimitri looked overjoyed. 

“I don’t really know, to be honest. Maybe it just gets better as I get older?” Byleth answered. 

“In any case, I’m sure we’ll find answers eventually,” said Dimitri. 

“Or, perhaps I have _you_ to thank!” she added with a small smile. Dimitri looked embarrassed.

“I doubt I have the right to take credit for such a thing, but I’m flattered nonetheless,” he said. 

“Hey, would you mind handing me that book with the blue cover from your pile?” Byleth asked, reaching across the table. 

“Oh, yes! Of course,” he said, but promptly knocked over his tower of tomes in his flustered state. 

“Ugh. That was embarrassing…” he lamented as the two picked them up off the floor.

“Don’t worry about it. There’s no one around. And-“ she stopped abruptly as she watched a collection of poorly bound documents fall from the pages of one of the books. Lacking a proper cover and held together only by weak twine binding, the parchment was worn and yellowed, and much of the scribbled writing had faded. 

“Byleth? What did you find?” asked Dimitri, but she was already engrossed in the contents. 

> ____/15 -- Ailell Forest_
> 
> _It has been several months since King Nemesis was defeated, and the tides of war have turned from bad to worse. I have received news that my friend Daphnel has fallen as well. Those zealots are after our heads, and those of our leaders. All that is left for us is to disappear into the muddy waters Seiros has created. My long life may soon come to an end..._
> 
> ____/2 - Itha Plains_
> 
> _I somehow escaped with my life, but I fear the end is near. Most of my clan has already surrendered to the Empire. To my surprise, I am told their safety was guaranteed. I, however, am a different matter. My life, along with my sacred weapon, will unquestionably be forfeit. My dear son and daughter... I hope you can forgive me one day._
> 
> ____/5 _____
> 
> _Why does Seiros despise us? What did King Nemesis do to incur such unyielding wrath? Perhaps it was a mistake to accept his offer. In any case, that is all in the distant past now..._
> 
> ______ and before this body falls to ash, the evil..._

“This is...Dimitri!” she said, returning back to reality. 

“Yes?” 

“Flip through every single one of the pages in these books. See if there are any more documents like this,” she instructed hastily. 

Sure enough, two more collections fell out from the books. Byleth read them with haste.

> _I, a priest of _____ the findings of my investigation _____ When a Crest Stone was removed while its Relic was being wielded by a ______ all movement within the Relic ceased. When the stone was returned, the Relic once again _____ It is beyond question that Crest Stones supply their associated Relic with power of some kind. And the impetus of said power is clearly related to the Crests that certain humans possess..._
> 
> _... Based on the composition of _____ it can be surmised that ____ likely a massive creature akin to a wyvern. However ______ strength is beyond compare to that of wyvern bones. They are more durable than all materials other than crucible steel, making them ideal for crafting weaponry, and absolutely _____ inhabiting ____ difficult to conceive, but one theory ______ It is possible that _______ the goddess's ______ have potentially..._
> 
> _... Heroes' Relics have been found that are not linked to the 10 Elites. _____ the 10 Elites ______ Could it be that others were gifted this power by the goddess as well? Perhaps the disturbing ______ that the Relics were not gifts from the Goddess _____ Additionally _____ the same Crest Stones ______ Many of my hypotheses _____ I am desperate to find the truth of it all._
> 
> _The time has come. I must discard _______ I daresay the goddess would not wish for me to learn more than I already have._

She wildly flipped to the next tattered tome. 

> _In the land of Thinis, where the old gods are said to live, the False God has awakened. Its looming, heteromorphic vessel was resurrected to sink the world to the depths of the ocean. It will bring extinction to all children of men, and salvation to all beasts of the land, sky, and sea. For the children of men who spilled too much blood of life, it promises only cruel retribution._
> 
> _The False God must be defeated before the world sinks into a watery grave. To this end, the children of men have erected pillars of light upon the land. Thinis, Malum, Septen, and Llium were utterly destroyed. Those lands have vanished from this world. Yet even still, the False God stands. And soon, a flood aptly named Despair will drown this world._
> 
> _The children of men fled to the depths of the earth, beyond sight of the False God, beyond the embrace of the sacred sun, and beyond the reach of the waters of Despair. They swore a fervent oath of revenge against the surface world, ruled by beasts, and against their tormenter, the False God._

She turned her head away as her head felt hot. She heard Sothis’s unintelligible voice call to her from the depths of her mind, but she quickly suppressed it and breathed deeply. She gripped the edge of the wooden table. The end was chipped, and she felt a sharp edge splinter her finger-the pain was her small, medicinal dose of reality. 

“Byleth, what did you find? Maybe we should take a break,” said a concerned Dimitri as he helped her off the ground. 

“Thank you, I’m fine. I think I’m going to take these with me…” said Byleth, gathering up the old documents.

“Is that such a good idea? What if Lady Rhea were to catch you with them?” said Dimitri, worried.

“You have a point…” Byleth said dejectedly, tucking the documents back into the books. 

“It's obvious Yuri meant for you to find these papers. We can make another trip here as well,” Dimitri said. Byleth took a seat back down at the table, wanting to stay a little while longer.

“What do you think it means here, about the ‘False God’?” she asked, pointing to the text. Dimitri scanned over it, furrowing his brow. 

“This is intriguing, indeed. I suppose the first mystery to solve would be the identity of the one who wrote this,” he said.

“Perhaps…” Byleth said. 

“Hm?”

“It’s nothing. Look at these documents, as well,” said Byleth. “This indicates that Daphnel of the Ten Elites was allied with Nemesis, not Saint Seiros. Why would a detail like that be changed?”

“...I don’t know. I wonder what the truth actually is,” said Dimitri. 

“How are we to know?” said Byleth.

“For now, I am not certain there _is_ a way to know for sure. But these texts here confirm the nature of the Relics,” Dimitri said. 

“Yep. And here it says the weapons are crafted from the bodies of creatures, akin to wyverns. Perhaps creatures such as the Immaculate One?” Byleth said. 

“I’d wager so. On that note, have you heard the legend of The Immovable? It’s said that a fearsome beast hides in Lake Teutates, and rewards travelers strong enough to overcome its challenges,” said Dimitri. “...that is how the legend goes, anyway,” he added after Byleth raised an eyebrow at him.

“It’s worth looking into. I wonder if we’ll be able to fit in a trip there before exams…” Byleth mused.

“Wouldn’t it be better to wait? I’m sure the lake is close to flooding with all the rain Fódlan gets around this time of year,” Dimitri said.

“If you’re worried, you don’t have to come with me. You should focus on studying anyway,” Byleth replied.

“I’d love to accompany you. I am simply suggesting you not rush into anything,” he said. 

“I suppose you’re right…” she said. She appreciated how he always kept her grounded in reality.

“I promise I’m not trying to discourage you,” Dimitri assured her softly. 

“I know. I need to focus on work and training as well,” she said. 

“Say...what do you like to do?” Dimitri asked suddenly. 

“Huh?” she was slightly taken aback by his random question. 

“I am realizing there is still a lot we don't know about each other. What do you like to do for fun?” he asked again. 

“Hm. Leisure time has always been such a rare occasion for me. I suppose I’ve always liked hunting or fishing,” she said. 

“Excellent! I’m rather fond of hunting myself,” Dimitri said cheerfully. 

“What say we take a hunting trip this month? It can be a short day trip on a free day and we could be back to the monastery by sundown. What do you think? It could be some much needed respite for both of us,” Dimitri proposed, a glimmer of hope in his blue eyes.

“That actually sounds lovely. But I still feel guilty for taking your attention away from your studies. I’m such an irresponsible professor,” she said. 

“Not at all! The invitation was mine. Besides, not to boast, but I am feeling more than confident about the midterm exams,” the prince said. 

“If you say so. Let’s plan for the week after next, then! I’m looking forward to it,” Byleth said happily. 

“I am as well,” said Dimitri. 

“Now, we should probably clean this up and get back to the surface. We shouldn’t overstay our welcome,” said Byleth. 

Byleth and Dimitri left the books in a neat, unassuming stack in the corner and slipped away from Abyss, doing their best to blend in with the shadows. 

* * *

The fourteenth of the Verdant Rain Moon. Byleth sat at a table in the dining hall with her pupils, leading an after-class tutoring session to help prepare for midterms over supper. The turnout was high-even Felix had found his way to the session, albeit begrudgingly. 

“What tactical advantage does the axe have over the lance?” Byleth asked the next question of the practice exam she had created for the occasion as her students furiously scribbled away in their notebooks. 

“Alright, next question. In reason-based magic, what spell is a recommended prerequisite to learning Excalibur and why?” she asked through a cheekful of food. She glanced over to Dimitri, and saw him struggling. She wondered if he had feigned confidence about the impending test as an excuse to spend time with her. 

“Ahem.” 

A voice from behind her pulled Byleth from her inner thoughts. She turned around and found a student with long white hair, her pink eyes staring daggers at her. She recognized her from the Golden Deer house. 

“Hello. Miss Lysithea, correct? What can I do for you?” asked Byleth.

“Yes. I’m Lysithea von Ordelia. I’m sorry to interrupt. But I have something I’d like to discuss with you,” said Lysithea. 

“With me?” Byleth glanced over at her table of students, who each looked at her silently with expectant eyes.

“I promise it will be brief,” Lysithea added.

“Very well,” Byleth said, stepping off to the side with the white-haired girl.

“Long story short, I’d like to transfer to your class,” Lysithea said, getting immediately to the point. Byleth was surprised.

“Transfer to my class? I must say, I’m flattered. But why? You aren’t happy with your current arrangement?” asked Byleth. 

“I am. I simply feel as though I have more to learn from you, especially in regards to magic,” Lysithea explained. 

“I did not consider myself exceptional in that regard,” Byleth said. 

“You say that, but don’t forget that Felix, of all people, is a skilled magic user now because of you. I’d especially like to hone my skills in faith-based magic. And I’m sure you’re quite adept, being the archbishop’s successor and all.” Lysithea argued. 

“You have a point. Well, if you think this would be the best fit, then who am I to argue? I’ll send a letter to the committee and to Lady Rhea requesting a transfer. I’ll let you know when I hear back,” Byleth said, jotting herself a note to remember.

“Great. I look forward to being under your instruction,” Lysithea said confidently and left. 

“What was that about, Professor?” Annette asked curiously as Byleth sat back down. 

“Annie, don’t pry!” Mercedes chided.

“Let’s get back to our practice test,” Byleth deflected, turning back to her primer. 

“Oh, that won’t be necessary. Felix already cheated and looked at your book,” Sylvain said playfully, to which Felix responded with a harsh elbow to his shoulder.

“He’s kidding,” Dedue said softly to Byleth. She smiled and shook her head. 

“You all are too rowdy for your own good,” she said, shoving another forkful of food into her mouth. “Now, let’s get back to work.” 

* * *

Dimitri packed lightly on the dawn of the twenty-fourth of the Verdant Rain Moon. Ecstatic to spend the day with Byleth, he was especially pleased that the day would be spent in leisure. They had not spent any quality time together since the Day of Devotion, and the prince was ready for them both to leave their worries and obligations behind at the monastery for the day. Food, water, a bow, a dagger, and a vulnerary would suffice for the outing. He decided to take Byleth’s previous advice and wear more casual, suitable outdoor wear than his school uniform. Ignoring his nagging headache, he departed his quarters and headed for the gates. Byleth was unsurprisingly already awaiting him there, ready to go. 

“It doesn’t look like you brought much,” she commented, eyeing his small knapsack. 

“We are only going to be gone for the day, yes?” he replied. 

“Yes, but even still…ah, nevermind. Should we get going?” asked Byleth, throwing her heavy backpack around her shoulders, hiding the Sword of the Creator strapped across her back.

“Absolutely. Please, lead the way!”

They ventured to the forest on the outskirts of Garreg Mach and set up their small campsite near a clear blue pond. The summer rains had given birth to lush new life, as the forest was teeming with vegetation. 

“The air smells so fresh out here,” said Dimitri, inhaling deeply. 

“Yeah, it’s great,” Byleth agreed. “Oh, by the way, try not to go after any deer or anything. I don’t feel like dragging anything big back home.” 

“Not to worry. I’m afraid I’m not a skilled shot anyway,” said Dimitri.

Byleth arranged a small campfire and lit it with fire magic. Laying out a blanket she arranged some fruit, jerky, and water. She even set out a pot and some chamomile tea leaves; Dimitri was impressed by her attention to detail.

“This is lovely, Byleth. You even remembered my favorite tea!” he praised.

“Of course. How could I forget?” she said. “We better get to hunting, or we won’t have much else to eat.” 

“Right.” 

They walked the woods together, keeping their steps soft and their bows drawn. Byleth kept a safe distance from Dimitri, to his dismay. The woods were eerily still, with not even a single bird chirping from the trees. Despite the flourishing summer vegetation, the forest was strangely devoid of life. 

“There’s not much out today,” she said. “Perhaps we should go back to the camp to fish.”

“Perhaps that is a good idea. Please, lead the way,” said Dimitri. He felt out of his element, trekking through the unknown forest, but he felt comforted and happy to be in Byleth’s presence. 

He watched bashfully at the water’s edge as she skillfully placed bait on the hook of her fishing rod.

“I apologize- I did not bring my own rod,” he said, ashamed.

“That’s okay. I just hope you don't get bored just sitting here,” said Byleth as she cast her line by the water.

“Not at all. I’m happy to simply be with you,” said Dimitri, feeling his cheeks turn hot. 

“I am too,” Byleth replied. “So how have things been? I hope classes are going well.” 

“Oh, they are! I’m learning a lot,” he said. 

“Good. Getting along with everyone?” she said. 

“I am. Though I don’t count Felix. He’s...unique,” Dimitri laughed.

“Unique is definitely a word for it,” said Byleth. “You know, I’ve missed you, Dimitri.”

“R-really?” he was caught off-guard. “I feel the same.”

“And I want you to know that you can always talk to me about anything, anytime. Even if all I can do is listen,” said Byleth.

“That’s very kind of you. But I assure you, there’s no need to waste your time worrying about me,” he said. 

“You don’t need to put on your prince act for me anymore, Dimitri,” Byleth said calmly, not looking away from her fishing rod. 

“What do you mean?” he said. 

“I think you _do_ know what I mean. Just remember to let your walls down around me every now and again, okay?” she said. 

“Very well. I’ll remember that. Thank you,” said Dimitri.

“What do you plan on doing after you graduate from the Officers Academy?” Byleth asked. 

“Going back to Faerghus, of course. By then, I will finally be of age to ascend the throne. There is a lot that needs taken care of in the Kingdom,” Dimitri said.

“I’m sure it won’t be easy. In all honesty, I wish I could come with you,” said Byleth.

“To the Kingdom?”

“Yeah.” 

“Well...I imagine the only permissible excuse for someone of your standing in the church would be if you were to marry the King of Faerghus!” Dimitri blurted out. Byleth finally looked away from her fishing, her eyebrow slightly furrowed. An awkward moment of silence settled between them.

“I only jest, of course!” Dimitri said quickly. 

”Oh, yes! Surely,” Byleth said, equally as quickly. 

“Joking aside, I hope you find yourself in a place someday where you may cut your own path,” said Dimitri earnestly. “And if that path includes you coming to Faerghus, I will welcome you with open arms.” 

“I appreciate it. But even if one day I were to be free of Sothis, I still have a duty to the church. Like you do to the Kingdom,” Byleth said forlornly.

“I suppose so. We’re more alike than I thought,” Dimitri said. 

“I guess so. What about you, Dimitri? What would you do if you had no obligations? Would you have come to the Officers Academy of your own volition?” Byleth asked.

“I’m not sure, though I’d like to say that anywhere you were would be a good place for me. And as for why I came to the Officers Academy…” he trailed off, remembering Byleth’s words. “ _Let your walls down._ ” 

“Yes?” said Byleth.

“I came here for revenge. And one day, I will have it,” said Dimitri calmly, simply. Byleth blinked at him, unfazed.

“I hope you’re able to achieve that, then. Just don’t cause too much trouble, okay?” said Byleth.

“Ah,” was all Dimitri could say. Why wasn’t she concerned by his words?

**_“Because she is just as much of a monster as you are_ **,” answered a cruel, familiar voice in the back of his head.

“Me, I can’t believe I’ve coasted by as a professor for this long. Sometimes I wonder if I’m cut out for it,” Byleth said. 

“I think you’ve done an excellent job, for what it’s worth. All of the Blue Lions are making strides in progress, and everyone always has good words to say about you,” Dimitri said.

“I appreciate that. Still, I feel as though I might have been happier as a student. Then perhaps we could have had more time to spend together,” Byleth said with a mesmerizing smile. The prince was instantly enamored by her oblivious charm.

“Such sentimental words, coming from you!” he said, grinning back at her.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Byleth said insistently, trying to hide a smile. At that moment, a hearty tug came from the end of her rod. With a surprised yelp, she jumped into action. After putting up a good fight, they were both disappointed when there was nothing on the line as she reeled it in. 

“Ugh. Let’s have some tea instead,” Byleth said, leading Dimitri over to the campfire. For the prince, her impatience was part of her charm.

Byleth brewed the chamomile tea over their meager campfire. It was bitter and gritty, but Dimitri found the lack of elegance inconsequential. As they sipped tea and grazed on the snacks they brought, clouds slowly filled the sky. 

“It looks like it could storm soon,” said Byleth, looking up at the sky.

“Indeed. Perhaps today was not the best day for an outing,” Dimitri replied.

“Nevertheless, I am glad we came anyway. I-” Byleth stopped mid-sentence; something in the distance had caught her attention. Dimitri followed her gaze toward the fishing pond-but there was nothing there. She rose to her feet and wordlessly walked toward the water.

“Byleth?” Dimitri said, concerned. No answer. Like she was lost in a trance, Byleth continued slowly forward, as if being lured in by a siren’s song.

“Byleth, what are you doing?” Dimitri exclaimed as she stepped into the pond. She continued to ignore him, and fully submerged herself in the water. Sensing something was amiss, Dimitri threw off his overcoat and leapt in after Byleth. 

The pond water was murky and the water stung his eyes. He saw Byleth grasping at nothing, her eyes drifting shut. Dimitri grabbed her and pulled her into his chest, swimming back up to the surface. When their heads were above water, Byleth coughed and sputtered, wiping the water from her eyes. 

“Byleth, are you alright?” Dimitri asked, still holding on to her tight.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she said, looking all around her. “I’m sorry. I thought I saw something…” 

“Please, don’t apologize,” he said breathlessly. “I’m glad you’re safe.” 

He carried them to the shore, each of them wringing out their clothes. Overhead, more storm clouds started to gather, calling out a warning to those wise enough to anticipate the impending storm.

“We should put up the tents. I don’t think we can beat the rain,” Byleth said, wringing out her hair. 

“Alright. Allow me to help,” said Dimitri. 

“Did you... _bring_ a tent?” asked Byleth.

“I am afraid not...I suppose I am not used to packing my own things for such outings,” Dimitri answered, embarrassed.

“Okay then. Well, we’ll at least put this one up,” she said, pulling out the materials from her sack. 

They quickly erected their temporary shelter as the first raindrops sprinkled down on them, securing the pegs of the tent as best they could. They quickly gathered the few belongings they had spread out around their campfire and stored them inside as the fire slowly sizzled out. 

The downpour was soon upon them as they huddled inside the tiny space. The low rumbling of thunder in the distance indicated that a storm was on its way. Byleth cast a ball of fire magic and held it close to her, shivering. 

“Are you cold? Here,” said Dimitri, offering her his overcoat that he had thrown to the side before leaping into the pond. 

“Thank you, but you don’t have to. I’m sure you’re cold too,” said Byleth. 

“Not at all. Please, I insist,” he said. 

“I wonder how long we’ll be stuck here,” Byleth mused. 

“Hard to say. The journey would surely be too treacherous to make on foot. If we had a horse, well, that would be a different story,” answered Dimitri. 

“Yeah. I don’t mind _that_ much to camp here for the night, but I only brought one set of blankets,” said Byleth. “And I’m assuming you did not bring any?” 

“You would be correct,” Dimitri confirmed bashfully. 

Night quickly overtook Fódlan, and the storm continued on. The rain was heavy still, but the prince and professor counted their blessings that the thunderstorm had not worsened as the time passed. They had moved to huddle side by side near Byleth’s fire magic. 

When Dimitri’s leg came in contact with her’s, Byleth winced and recoiled away. When the prince looked down, he found a sizable gash in the side of her thigh-most likely sustained during her episode in the pond. 

“Byleth, how long has that been there?” he asked worriedly. 

“Just since today. I didn’t want to worry you with it,” she brushed it off.

“Nonsense. Please, won’t you allow me to treat it?” he asked. Byleth nodded in agreement. 

Producing the lone vulnerary he brought, Dimitri felt nervous when it came time to administer the medicine-he realized how inappropriate it would be to touch her in such an intimate area. 

“If you aren’t comfortable, I can certainly do it myself,” said Byleth. She could read him like a book. 

“No, forgive me. As long as you are alright with this,” he said. 

Cleaning off his hands as best he could, he wet his hands with water from his canteen and rubbed the powdered solution between his fingers. Lathering it into a paste, he took to the cut on her leg with an overly gentle touch. Byleth winced, sucking air in through her teeth as the medicine came in contact with the gash. Dimitri didn’t know whether the heat that filled his face was due to the fire magic or his embarrassment; he decided it was some unholy mixture of both. 

“Sorry,” said Dimitri. “I know it stings.” 

“It’s okay. Thank you.”

He coated it liberally, still only using a ghost of a touch, afraid of hurting her with his strength. 

“I wanted to apologize about today, Dimitri,” Byleth said suddenly. 

“About the pond? Please, don’t worry about it. I understand,” he said. 

“I thought I saw her in there,” Byleth said. 

“Sothis?” asked Dimitri. 

“No. The woman, from my dreams. The one who always weeps, but never talks to me. I thought I saw her in the water, reaching her hand out to me. And then Sothis _was_ there, pulling her under. Hm. I was foolish to conflate my mad visions with reality,” Byleth chastised herself. 

“Please don’t beat yourself up. If it’s any comfort, I might be able to empathize with you. I sometimes hear the voices of those who lost their lives instead of me, calling out for my help-to avenge them, to let them rest easy. My father, Glenn, my stepmother as well…” Dimitri said, opening up to her. 

“ ** _Quit spilling such nonsense all over her. Unless your goal is to push her away-then by all means, please continue.”_ **Dimitri heard Glenn’s voice clearly in his head. 

“I had no idea…has this been since the Tragedy of Duscur?” Byleth said softly. 

“Yes. The monsters who orchestrated the attack...They looked much the same as the assassins who have been targeting you. One day, I shall seek out revenge against them. Then, surely, the dead will rest easy,” Dimitri said, feeling tears well up in his eyes. He clenched his jaw, holding them back. 

“It’s okay to cry around me Dimitri,” Byleth said. Her voice was not patronizing or coddling, but simple and assuring. 

Covering his eyes with the heels of his palms, Dimitri let out a shuddering sob, releasing some of the pain he had concealed and let build up within him. Byleth wrapped her arms around him, and he buried his face in her shoulder, muffling his sobs and sniffles. Saying nothing, she stroked his damp hair. In a world where the goddess had surely forsaken him, Byleth’s embrace was a sufficient substitute. Dimitri wrapped his arms around her, craving even more closeness. In that moment, she was his sanctuary, shielding him from the cruelty the world had been so quick to offer him. 

“The storm isn’t relenting,” Byleth said, breaking the silence. “Looks like we’ll have to rest here for the night after all.”

“Ah, of course,” Dimitri said as he pulled away, wiping his face with his sleeve. “Please, feel free to go to sleep. I’ll stay over here. I am sorry there’s not much privacy.” 

She laid out a blanket, creating a makeshift bed. She tucked herself in, but left a spot open beside her. 

“Come here,” she said, patting the spot next to her. 

“Are you sure? It’s not too improper?” Dimitri asked nervously. 

“There’s no one around. But if you aren’t comfortable, I understand,” said Byleth. Dimitri silently slipped in next to her. 

“...you smell like pond water,” she said jokingly, sniffing his hair. 

“Hey, _you_ don’t smell all too pleasant either!” Dimitri quipped back with a smile. 

Byleth was the first to fall asleep, unsurprisingly. Dimitri’s heart was beating far too rapidly for him to even consider sleep. Against his better judgment, he tenderly stroked her face, feeling every inconsequential scar and ridge on the delicate skin. Nervously, he leaned down and placed his head against her chest. There was no one around to witness, but he felt a blush of embarrassment on his cheeks anyway. Just like he remembered from so long ago, he heard no heartbeat from within her. It was haunting, yet somehow enchanting. 

“What the hell?” 

Dimitri might have screamed had his voice not been scared out of his body. Peeking into their tent was none other than Captain Jeralt himself, his eyes widened at the scene before him. 

“S-sir!! Sir Jeralt, my deepest apologies..! It’s, ah, we just happened to get caught in the storm, and…” Dimitri stammered, his voice cracking. Next to him, Byleth started to stir and awaken. 

“You know what? I don’t even wanna know,” Jeralt said, shaking his head. Dimitri thought he might die of humiliation. How did he not hear Jeralt approaching? 

“Dad? What are you doing here?” Byleth asked, suddenly sitting up. 

“Patrolling. Sorry to interrupt your romantic outing, but I’m gonna need you two to get your asses up and at ‘em. There’s an entire hoard of demonic beasts outside, and they’re right on our tails,” said the captain with urgency. 

Wordlessly, and with no time to insist against Jeralt’s accusation of a romantic getaway, Dimitri and Byleth begrudgingly prepared for battle. Dimitri’s heart sank as he exited the tent’s safe haven into the brutal embrace of the cold world. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twitter.com/itswingberry lets be mutuals owo


	8. Haze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lysithea is accepted into the Blue Lions, Yuri has a little too much fun messing with Dimitri, Byleth celebrates her birthday, Sylvain has a moment™, and the gang travels to Lake Teutates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW LONG TIME NO SEE.... Sorry for taking so so long to update friends ;w; I'm sure you can imagine that things have been stressful. I'm just now getting back into the swing of writing so thanks for bearing with me!! In other news animal crossing has consumed my life please send help.
> 
> Thank you for continuing to leave kudos and comments, they mean the absolute world to me!! 
> 
> *I've been working on a project called In Time's Flow, an FE3H fan album project, as a composer! Please check us out here: https://twitter.com/fe3hfm*

* * *

Dimitri felt foolish, having brought no other weapon than a dagger on the trip as the beasts encircled them. He scolded himself for his complacency. 

“Dimitri, get behind me,” Byleth ordered, wielding the Sword of the Creator. Even in the urgency of their present situation, Dimitri admired her strength and leadership. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Byleth. Stay alert,” Jeralt warned, climbing atop his horse.

As expected, Jeralt and Byleth made quick work of the four demonic beasts. Relatively smaller in stature than other monsters they had encountered, Byleth weakened their defenses first with a magic attack. Jeralt covered her blind spots on horseback. With their defenses pierced, the beasts were vulnerable to the swift strikes of her blade. While he cursed himself for his uselessness, Dimitri also considered himself blessed to witness Byleth and Jeralt fight side by side. They were completely in sync, their movements more akin to dancing than fighting.

The last demonic beast let out a thunderous roar that shook the ground around them, rivaling the heavens’ thunderstorm that raged on. The monster’s body disappeared in a cloud of black matter, reminding Dimitri of their encounter with Miklan. And when the smoky matter evaporated to reveal a human clad in an Officers Academy uniform, Dimitiri thought the situation too familiar.

“What the hell? Is that a student!?” Jeralt exclaimed in disbelief.

Byleth didn’t answer, rushing to the student’s side. Placing her head to their chest, her expression was subtle but telling: the student was dead. She looked to Dimitri, who wordlessly kneeled down beside her. 

“I had no idea…” she said softly, turning away. She shivered in the chilly, ever-falling rain. 

“Of course you didn’t. There is no blame to be had here,” Dimitri assured her, feeling his own heart beating rapidly, quickening with his heightening anxiety. 

“This is bad. I’ll report this to Lady Rhea immediately,” said Jeralt. 

“Do you need us to stay here...with the student?” Dimitri asked. 

“No, no need. I can carry them myself. You two can ride back with the other knights; they’ll be arriving any moment,” Jeralt assured them. 

The silence while Byleth and Dimitri awaited the knights was awkward; the prince was thankful they at least had their tent and supplies to pack up before the knights’ arrival. Unsurprisingly, Byleth was silent and expressionless as they took down the tent. Her mop of wet hair and the rain dripping down her face gave no hint of perturbation or faltering. Dimitri remembered, then, that he had never seen her shed tears before. He wondered if he ever would. 

* * *

The Horsebow Moon brought the first hints of fall to Fódlan, enriching the land with bountiful harvest and the first whispers of cooler weather. With a new month, a new mission accompanied it for Byleth and her class, for which she stood in the audience chamber with Rhea, waiting to receive her message.

“I hope you’re doing well, as always. It is most regretful that we have not spent any time together as of late,” Rhea said. 

“Indeed,” said Byleth shortly. She watched Rhea’s pale green eyes dart from her to the Sword of the Creator on her back. 

“I want you to be on high alert from now on, Byleth. It seems unknown threats are on the rise around the monastery. The incident with the demonic beasts is most troublesome,” the archbishop continued. 

“I agree. It was painful to see a student meet their end so gruesomely,” Byleth agreed.

“Mm. I must say, however...it does suggest that perhaps the students did not heed the order of keeping quiet about the truth behind the Hero’s Relics. You _did_ instruct them to keep the events with Miklan to themselves, yes?” she said ominously.

“Of course. I promise that I did,” Byleth said.

**I wake up from a nice long nap, and I’m greeted with more of your foolishness? Ugh.**

“Hm. In any case, we have the larger picture to focus on. For this month, please practice enhanced security behaviors, as I mentioned before. On the eighth, we shall observe Leicester Alliance Founding Day. Your class’s mission for the end of the month shall be to teach basic swordplay skills to a class of the wards here in the church, as well as to continue preparing for the Battle of the Eagle and Lion in the coming month. I’ll leave it to you to assign roles and plan accordingly for the lesson,” Rhea said. 

“I understand. Thank you,” said Byleth. 

“Of course. Don’t disappoint me. I look forward to spending more time with you, my child, after all of this turbulence has died down,” Rhea said. “You are dismissed.”

“Yes, Mother Rhea,” Byleth said, bowing. 

On her way back, Byleth felt a heaviness weigh down on her. Out of the events Rhea mentioned for the Horsebow Moon, she had left out the twentieth-her birthday. Rhea had forgotten her birthday. She felt a sting in her nose. 

**Oh, please. What were you expecting from her? You always set yourself up for disappointment. It’s irritating.**

On this note, she figured Sothis to be right. There was no time to dwell on it. 

* * *

The fourth of the Horsebow Moon was like any other day of instruction for Byleth and her class. As school events loomed on the horizon, her to-do list piled up. Following the last class of the day, she had scheduled an after-school meeting with her new student, Lysithea, to go over her goals for the remainder of the year. Byleth was surprised but happy that the transfer was approved by Rhea and the faculty. 

“It seems like reason-based magic is your strength, so we’ll definitely focus on that,” said Byleth as she sat across from Lysithea, shuffling through her records and coursework. “And you also wanted to venture into faith-based magic, if I’m remembering correctly?”

“Yes, that’s right,” said Lysithea. She seemed to have something else occupying her thoughts. 

“I’ll update your goals, then. I’d like you to focus a little bit on swordplay, as well. It might be out of your realm of comfort, but I’d like you to give it a try,” Byleth said, scribbling down an annotation. 

“Whatever you think the best course of action is. I want to learn all that I can,” the young girl said. 

“I like that determination. You’re gonna do well, I can already tell. So, now is the time to let me know if you have any questions or concerns about your transfer. It is quite a bit into the school year already, so please don’t hesitate if there’s anything you’d like to talk about,” said Byleth. 

“I am _quite_ confident in my abilities when it comes to schoolwork, so there are no problems in _that_ regard,” Lysithea insisted. 

“But there are problems in other regards?” Byleth asked. 

“It’s more like….Hmph.” Lysithea stopped herself, glancing worriedly around the quiet office. 

“What’s the matter, Lysithea?” 

“You were raised in the church, Professor. And you’re to succeed the archbishop herself,” Lysithea started, hesitating as though carefully selecting her words. 

“Yes, that’s correct,” said Byleth. 

“So...there must be a lot of secret information you’re privy to?” she continued. 

“Lysithea, I’m not sure that-“ 

“Please don’t misunderstand me, Professor. There’s just so much I need to learn in a short amount of time. Namely about crests, and…” she trailed off. 

“And?”

“I only really just met you, so I don’t know why I’m about to spill all of this on you. I guess there’s something about you that I feel I can trust,” Lysithea mused. 

“If you’re uncomfortable, you certainly don’t _have_ to share anything with me,” Byleth assured her. 

“It’s okay. It’s really about why I wanted to transfer in the first place. I...I want to learn how to remove a crest,” Lysithea admitted. 

“Remove one? I must say, that’s usually the opposite of what you might expect someone to say,” said Byleth, intrigued. 

“My hair wasn’t always this color, Professor. And I didn’t always have two crests-don’t know if the church let you in on that fact or not,” she said. Byleth’s mind immediately went to Edelgard and her tragic tale. Her stomach dropped to think of the possibility of more victims beyond Lysithea and Edelgard. 

“Two crests? That’s...unprecedented,” Byleth said carefully. 

“Yes. Honestly, I don’t feel like spilling _all_ the gross details for you, but I don’t have much time left. I need to figure out how to remove my crests. And Professor Hanneman was more interested in glorifying them without realizing what a curse it really is,” said Lysithea passionately. Byleth saw a fire of desperation in her pale pink eyes. 

“I see. I’m sorry, Lysithea. Please know that I’ll do whatever I can to help you,” Byleth said. 

“Thank you, Professor. I’m sorry to have wasted so much of your time. I’ll get going now,” said Lysithea. 

“Please, there’s no need to apologize. I promise to support you in any way I can,” Byleth said, seeing her out. “I look forward to seeing you in class tomorrow. 

As she shut the door behind her, Byleth exhaled deeply, her head swimming with thoughts. Crests, Hero’s Relics, Sothis, the goddess, demonic beast sightings-it all seemed like an elaborate web of interconnected events, like scattered islands she had yet to build the bridges between. 

**You’re always doing everything for anyone who asks. And then you wonder why you break down when you can’t take it anymore.**

Maybe Sothis was right yet again. 

* * *

The seventh of the Horsebow Moon. Dimitri, dressed in a tattered cloak, ventured into the Abyss’s shadow library once more. He felt a pang of guilt that he came without Byleth, but as the school year grew ever busier, he did not want to distract her from the duties at hand. Events unfolding had piqued his curiosity, and he hoped the mountains of materials in Abyss’s collection would shed even more light. He told himself he did so to further assist Byleth in her ongoing investigations. But he knew, deep down, that he sought information for his own pursuits as well. 

It was undeniable that a rumble of unrest washed over the continent. Crests, relics, and political instability seemed to be the fuel to the fire-but as Dimitri compared the images of the orchestrators of the Tragedy of Duscur to the assassins from the mock battle and Abyss in his mind, he wondered if there was yet another force at play beyond the Kingdom, Empire, Alliance, and even the Church of Seiros. 

The prince sat alone, feeling his eyes sting as he flipped through page after page. Since the light of day didn’t reach Abyss, he took care not to lose track of time. 

“Well hey there, Your Highness! Didn’t expect to see you here without Byleth,” said Yuri, whom Dimitri didn’t notice enter. 

“Hello, Yuri. As you can expect, the professor is quite busy this time of year,” he said, polite but short. 

“Yes, indeed. Anyhoo, I simply wanted to say hello. Please don’t let me interrupt your very important business,” said Yuri. The ever-present sarcasm laced throughout every word he spoke rendered Yuri an enigma. 

“Not at all. I appreciate that you came to greet me,” Dimitri said. 

“Of course, of course. Say, I caught wind that it was our little sunbeam’s birthday soon. I’m quite busy myself, so could I ask you the huge favor of delivering this to her for me?” Yuri asked, pulling out a sealed envelope. Byleth’s name was penned in elegant lettering, a simple wax seal on the flap. 

“Yes, of course,” Dimitri said, feeling a lump in his throat. 

“Thanks, I really owe you one. Catch ya later, Your Princeliness!” Yuri waved, quickly fleeing the scene. 

Unable to focus any longer on his research, Dimitri couldn't tear his eyes away from the letter he held in his hand. He disgusted himself with how desperately he wished to know the contents. Thus far, Yuri had already been overly familiar and even affectionate with Byleth. With how bold he addressed her in speech, How much more brazen would he be through writing? Without thinking, Dimitri felt his calloused finger pop open the wax holding the contents inside. It would be easy to seal back up. 

> _“Gotcha, Prince Dimitri. Quit snooping in stuff that isn’t yours, hm?_
> 
> _-Yuri”_

There was nothing else in the envelope besides the small note. 

Dimitri heard the first faint sounds of splintering wood as he gripped the edge of the table. Despite his efforts to keep a calm, cool demeanor, Yuri seemed to see through him. He stuck the false letter in a random book and slammed it shut. Without Yuri’s help, his research was fruitless anyway-a fact Dimitri resented. The identities of the mysterious figures who carried out the Tragedy of Duscur and plotted assassination attempts against the archbishop’s successor would have to wait until another day. 

* * *

The eighth of the Horsebow Moon. Byleth sat quietly in her office across from Seteth, whom she had called on short notice. She hasn’t expected him to agree to her request, especially with the busyness of Leicester Alliance Founding Day celebrations. 

“I must say, I’m a bit surprised that you would want to speak with me one-on-one,” said Seteth. 

“I know. It’s been a long time since we’ve spoken with each other outside of professional matters, so thanks for meeting with me on short notice,” Byleth said. 

“Of course,” Seteth said. His speech was formal and on edge, as if he were treading carefully around a hostile creature. Byleth was privy to his distaste for her. His feelings were not quite akin to dislike, but far from acceptance. She knew why: the archbishop’s assistant was appalled that Rhea would appoint a lowborn child of a nun and former mercenary to the highest position in the Church of Seiros, and she did not entirely blame him for these concerns. 

“So…I’ve heard tell of certain beasts in Fódlan and beyond. It’s come up in my research occasionally,” she started carefully. 

“Why, yes. The sudden appearance of demonic beasts and monsters in Fódlan is quite concerning,” Seteth replied. 

“Yes, that’s true, but I'm actually referring to something else. Have you heard of The Immovable? Or perhaps the Wind Caller?” Byleth continued. She noticed the slightest change in Seteth’s posture, as if he had been bored and aloof up this point, when his attention had been captured. 

“I have. But these names are in reference to beasts only documented in folktales. I have my doubts as to the credibility of their existence, if that is what you’re asking,” Seteth said, shaking his head. 

“I see. Then why have materials surrounding these supposedly mythical creatures been removed from the library’s collection?” Byleth asked, doing her best to sound as non-confrontational as possible. 

“Interesting that you would know such a fact. The church’s library is no place for silly fairy tales. People can seek out such stories in the public libraries in town,” said Seteth. 

**Please quit wasting your time. He clearly isn’t going to give you anything you’re seeking.**

“Why is that interesting? I am Mother Rhea’s successor, after all. And I’ll be twenty years old soon. I say it’s high time I start becoming aware of what’s going on within the church,” Byleth insisted. 

“Yes, yes, you’re right. Let us not argue. Why do you bring this up? Why not ask Lady Rhea?” he asked. Byleth wondered if he truly was unaware of what the archbishop subjected her to behind closed doors. 

“I was wondering about the validity of the claims. Perhaps what lies at Lake Teutates and Sreng desert are not fantastical beasts that guard mystical weapons or grant wishes as the tales claim, but monsters. Like the demonic beasts, that might pose a threat to the people. With how many rumors floating around about them, wouldn’t you say it’s worth looking into?” Byleth explained, taking care not to reveal her true intentions. 

“Perhaps. That would be a job for the Knights of Seiros, and they are already spread a bit thin. The matter would have to wait,” said Seteth. Despite the unbothered demeanor he tried to keep up, Byleth could sense an edge in his voice, as though there was something he did not want her to discover. 

“I see. I suppose that’s all I need. I’ll trust that we’ll look into the matter when time is more on our side,” Byleth said, nodding her head. 

“Absolutely. Now, if there’s nothing else you need from me, I must be going,” Seteth said, moving to leave. 

“Nothing else. Thanks for speaking with me, Seteth. I appreciate it,” she said. 

“Of course. I’m happy to help in any way I can. Good day,” he said politely. 

“Good bye, Seteth.” Silence followed the gentle thud of the door. 

**That was absolutely unproductive. What a waste of time. You could have been training!**

“I actually found out all I needed to know. I didn’t expect him to share anything with me. But the way he got so nervous at my mentioning it tells me that a trip there would not be wasted,” Byleth argued. She tidied up her paperwork, ready to plan a trip to Lake Teutates. 

**Please, Byleth. Why waste more of our time? I promise you won’t find anything there.**

Byleth wondered where the tenseness in her voice came from. Usually smug and confident, she could tell she was striking a nerve with Sothis. 

“What’s got you so anxious? Is there something there that you don’t want me to see?” Byleth said in her mind to her. 

**Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve been way too easy on you, and it shows. You’re gallivanting everywhere as if you have nothing better to do, and I’m tired of allowing you to do so.**

**“** That’s never stopped you in all this time before now. You could _really_ save us the trip if you’d just go ahead and tell me what it is you don’t want me seeing. It would save us both some time,” Byleth retorted. 

Byleth felt a sudden pressure in her chest, stealing the breath away from her. 

**I thought we had taken care of this, Byleth. I won’t let you and your insolent mouth defy me again. Do you understand?**

_“Breathe. Just breathe,”_ She said to herself, borrowing her father’s comforting voice. 

“ _But I can’t breathe,”_ she thought. “ _I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe.”_

What was different? Why couldn’t she catch her breath, find her footing, find _something_ tangible to hold on to? The confines of her office in broad daylight no longer existed, and Byleth was trapped in her own mind. Her father wasn’t going to show up to save her. Dimitri wasn’t there to help her. She wished, as her vision faded in and out of darkness, that she could somehow be enough for herself. 

But she remembered someone she could reach out for in the darkness. She visualized the meadow in which she knew she’d find _her._

 _“It's you…”_ the woman said, her voice raspy and meek. It was rare that Byleth heard her speak. 

Byleth opened her mouth to answer, but no words escaped her, and she elected to reach out her hand in lieu of pleading for help. The woman offered her embrace, and the heat in her chest, her struggle for breath, the screams in her head all disappeared at once. And just as quickly as the woman’s touch grounded her, she too disappeared, leaving Byleth alone on the floor of her study.

* * *

The twentieth of the Horsebow Moon brought an average, overcast day. On her birthday, Byleth recalled the times in which she spent her special day with her father, enjoying rare tastes of the simplicity life had to offer. Although she and Jeralt had thankfully found time to have dinner in the evening, the luxuries of a day spent in leisure were far behind her. Lectures and paperwork still awaited her, like any other school day. Perhaps there was merit to be had in a comfortable routine, however. 

Her birthday also brought thoughts of her late mother to mind. Just as the date was an anniversary of her birth, so too was it the anniversary of her mother’s death. She hoped to steal a moment with her father to ask him her pressing questions surrounding Sitri. 

Ready to start the day, she made her way to the classroom. If the day went the way she wanted it to, Byleth would have liked to avoid lecture time as much as possible in lieu of practice at the training grounds. She could stand to let off some steam.

“Happy Birthday, Professor!” her students exclaimed as she walked through the door. Byleth blinked slowly, taking a moment to process the sight before her. A small cake and a few gifts sat on her desk at the front of the room. 

“Good morning everyone. What is this?” she asked, not being able to help showing a smile. 

“It’s your birthday, isn’t it, silly?” said Mercedes. 

“Yes, it is,” Byleth replied. 

“Then there you have it! We wanted to do something special for you, Professor. You always remember _our_ birthdays!” Annette said. 

“Thank you for your hard work, Professor. But let’s not let this take _too_ long. I’m itching to get some sparring in,” said Felix. 

“Felix is right-we need to be diligent with our studies before the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. But a little celebration won’t hurt!” Ingrid chimed in. 

“Yes, of course. School is of the utmost importance. But how did you guys even know it was my birthday today? I don’t remember ever mentioning it,” Byleth asked. 

“Well, Professor, Dimitri was kind enough to let us in on it. After all, you two are very close, aren’t you?” Sylvain said slyly. Byleth cocked her head at him, while Felix and Ingrid shot him deathly glares. 

“It’s very kind of you all nonetheless. You really didn’t have to get any gifts, either,” said Byleth, motioning to the wrapped packages on her desk. 

“They aren’t extravagant by any means, but we hope you’ll accept them. Those flowers are from Dedue and I! We’ve been tending to them during our greenhouse duties,” said Ashe. The flowers in question were an elegant arrangement of white lilies. 

“They’re lovely. Thank you so much,” said Byleth. 

“I’m glad you like them,” said Dedue. 

“Well, Professor? Open the rest!” Annette said excitedly. 

“Sure.” 

Her students’ gifts were small but sentimental. Mercedes and Annette gave some homemade cookies, though Byleth wagered they were mostly Mercedes’ doing while Annette stumbled around the kitchen. From Sylvain, a cheap rose oil perfume. She suspected he kept a stash of similar gifts on hand in the event of an angry lover. Ingrid penned a letter, in which the words were professional but heartfelt. Felix gave nothing, but Byleth didn’t expect that he would. He preferred to speak through his blade rather than his words, which often failed him. 

But she also found no gift from Dimitri, and she couldn’t deny the small sinking feeling of disappointment in her stomach. Maybe he would rather wait to give her a gift in private? Surely, that was it. 

**So it’s not enough that you were** **_just_ ** **showered with birthday gifts? You’re gonna get upset cuz** **_one_ ** **person didn’t get you anything? That’s pretty ungrateful.**

It was true. Byleth had never received so much attention at once in her entire life. But if Dimitri wasn’t among them, it mattered little to her. Ungrateful, indeed.

“Alright, everyone, we need to get class started. But feel free to help yourselves to some cake. You have my permission to eat through my lecture, just for today!” said Byleth. She smiled at the cute icing decorations on the small cake-evident of Mercedes’ handiwork. 

Byleth glanced at Dimitri, who awkwardly kept his distance as he took his seat. He was acting uncharacteristically distant. 

“Dimitri, don’t you want a piece?” Annette called to him. 

“Ah, perhaps later! Thank you very much though!” he replied. The other students paid no mind and returned to their merriment. Byleth watched as Dimitri avoided her gaze, shuffling nervously in his seat. It was going to be a long class period. 

Sparring at the training grounds helped clear her mind. Combat was truly one of the only things left that Byleth could completely lose herself in, one of the only activities left that brought her true peace. She found it somewhat ironic. 

At the end of classes for the day, as the Blue Lions said their farewells and final birthday wishes to their professor, Dimitri lingered. 

“I’m glad I was able to find a moment alone with you, Professor,” he said, approaching her. 

“Yeah? What can I do for you?” Byleth asked curiously. 

_Alone?_

“I simply wanted to wish you a happy birthday myself. Perhaps it’s selfish of me, but I wanted us to be alone,” he said bashfully. 

_Alone. He said it again._

**There you go. Happy now?**

“Oh. Well, thanks. I really appreciate it, Dimitri,” Byleth replied. He gave her a warm smile. 

“Did you need any help carrying things? It seems you have quite the load of gifts and treats to take with you,” Dimitri offered. 

“Actually, yeah, that’d be great. I’m on my way home to have dinner with Dad, but I’m sure he won’t mind if you drop by,” said Byleth. 

“Oh! I won’t stay, not to worry. I will simply drop off your things and be on my way,” Dimitri said.

“Okay. To be honest, Dimitri, I was kind of hoping to spend a little bit of the day with you, too. It doesn’t seem things worked out that way though,” Byleth lamented as they walked together. 

“Truly? I wish for the same. After all, I still have my own gift to give you. I hope you did not think I forgot,” he said with a charming smile.

_He remembered me._

The clouds in the sky were the first signs of impending rains, and a cool fall breeze carried the first of the autumn leaves with it. Byleth wished she could walk with Dimitri through the peaceful monastery grounds forever. 

“Oh, I wasn’t expecting anything! That’s sweet of you all the same. I was actually hoping you’d join me on the twenty-seventh. I’ve decided to finally take that trip to Lake Teutates. I want to go to the Sreng region, too, but time isn’t really on our side for that one,” Byleth proposed. 

“Absolutely. Are you sure it won’t get in the way of our duties, though?,” said Dimitri. 

“I’m tired of constantly having to put this off. I need to be proactive about my research, and I really think I’ve got a good lead going with this. But please, don’t feel obligated to come! I wouldn’t want to distract you from your own responsibilities or anything,” Byleth replied.

“Not at all! Please, I’m happy to help. If it’s alright, I’m sure Dedue will not allow me off the monastery grounds without him,” Dimitri said with a chuckle. 

“I’d be happy to have him along. That’s no problem,” Byleth said. 

“It’s settled, then. We shall be there,” said Dimitri.

~~~~

Byleth and Dimitri opened the door, greeted by supper’s enticing scent. Dinner was sat out at the table already- fish and steamed veggies. Simple, but reminiscent of birthday picnics from her past. 

“Oh, By, you didn’t tell me you were having company,” Jeralt said as he rounded the corner, wiping his hands on the sides of his pants. 

“My apologies for the intrusion, Sir,” Dimitri said, bowing. 

“He’s not staying. Dimitri offered to help carry stuff for me,” said Byleth as Dimitri piled her gifts on the floor. 

“Damn. Those little brats sure did shower you with love, huh?” Jeralt remarked. 

“I guess so,” Byleth said. 

“Well, it was very kind of them. The food’s pretty much ready, so if you could just go ahead and set the table,” said Jeralt.

“I’ll take that as my cue to depart, then. I hope you have a wonderful evening. Happy Birthday, Byleth,” said Dimitri, offering a bow. 

“Sorry we didn’t have much time together. We’ll talk again soon,” Byleth said quickly, seeing the prince out the door.

“Of course. Good night, Byleth,” he said softly, shutting the door behind him. 

~~~~

It had been a while since Byleth shared a meal at the table with her father. Each had been busy with their own duties, and she felt blessed that they were able to share an evening together for her birthday. Yet, she felt an air of uneasiness settling upon them. To the only person she had ever been able to trust throughout her life, she didn’t know what to say. 

“Well, let’s dig in,” Jeralt said, shoveling food in his mouth. “Twenty years old, huh? Gods, time really does fly.” 

“I may be twenty, but I don’t feel any different,” said Byleth. 

“You’ve grown a lot during the school year, though. I know you’ve had your run-ins with Rhea, and I’ll be the first to admit-I was worried about you taking on your new position. But I think becoming a professor at the academy was one of the best things for you,” the captain said genuinely. 

“That means a lot to me, Dad. I didn’t know if I could handle it at first, but I really feel in my element now,” she replied. 

“Yeah. I know not everything is ideal right now, especially with Sothis and Rhea. But I want you to know how proud I am of you, kid. And I know your mother would be proud of you too,” he said. Byleth didn’t know what to say. 

**Well? This is your opportunity.**

“So, about Mother. She was always sickly?” said Byleth, swallowing back a nervous lump in her throat.

“Yeah. She was. I know I haven’t talked much about things to you, kid. I’m sorry. You deserve more than that,” said Jeralt. 

“It’s okay. I’m sorry if this brings up bad memories, or anything…” she trailed off.

“No. There was a time when just the thought of Sitri would bring tears to my eyes. Now, all I can do when I think about her is smile. My only regret is that she didn’t know our child,” Jeralt said. Byleth couldn’t help but smile herself.

“It sounds like you’ve healed,” Byleth said. 

“Not quite. More like I’ve been patched up. Couldn’t have done it without you,” replied Jeralt, reaching over to tousle her hair.

“Do you-” Byleth stopped herself short, finishing the sentence in her head.

_Do you think Rhea could have been involved in my mother’s death?_

It could very well explain her mysterious circumstances as well. No heartbeat, Sothis’s presence....and yet her words failed her, her thoughts dammed up by her own cowardice. She could not bring herself to interrupt her father’s found peace and acceptance of Sitri’s death with such a suggestion.

“What were you saying, By?” Jeralt asked. 

“Nothing. I was gonna say that I’m happy we could spend my birthday together,” she said. 

“I am too, kid. Now you better get to chowing. I didn’t make all this food for your stomach to suddenly shrink,” the father said playfully. “And you better have room for the cake, too.” 

“You made a cake?” 

“Hell no. I bought one,” Jeralt laughed.

“I appreciate it anyway,” Byleth said. 

~~~~

After an evening spent eating, drinking, and laughing with her father, Byleth gathered her gifts from her students from earlier in the day. From among the pile, she noticed a still-wrapped package that she did not recognize, an envelope attached. She curiously tore into the card, revealing a note with elegant penmanship. Despite the writing’s elegant curves, she noticed spots where the pen had poked through the paper, and dots where the ink had pooled up. It was unmistakably Dimitri’s. 

> _“Dear Byleth,_
> 
> _I hope you have the happiest of birthdays. I know my gift may not mean much, but I wanted to present you with something useful and meaningful. I can only hope you will find use in it as a haven to voice your thoughts, without fear of judgment or consequence. With my warmest regards,_
> 
> _-Dimitri”_

A smile creeped on Byleth’s face as she tore into the gift. Inside the package was a leather-bound journal, engraved with the Blue Lions house insignia. She clutched the gift close to her chest, ignoring Sothis’s irritated sighs. Her cruel glares were outshined by the memories of Dimitri’s bright smile.

* * *

Dimitri struggled to keep his lips closed as chatter settled over the Blue Lions after class on the twenty-seventh of the Horsebow Moon.

“I think it’s irresponsible of the Professor to take a trip when we need to train for the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. Not to mention our assigned mission in a couple of days!” said Ingrid indignantly.

“Why so harsh, Ingrid? We still have plenty of time,” Sylvain said.

“The other professors are available as well,” Annette added. 

“They aren’t as skilled, plain and simple. I’m with Ingrid on this one,” Felix said. Dimitri remained silent as they all packed up their belongings.

“Ooh, what if she’s going undercover to investigate all the demonic beast sightings? I mean, a student _died_ after all,” said Annette. 

“Psh. Doubt it,” Felix scoffed. 

“Well, there’s nothing to be done, I suppose!” Mercedes said, ever the peacemaker.

“Shall we be on our way, Your Highness?” Dedue said, sensing Dimitri’s growing irritation with his peers.

“Dimitri!” Annette called out to him. “Do you want to come with us to the training grounds?” 

“Ah, I appreciate your invitation, but I am afraid I have prior plans,” the prince replied.

“Tch. You’re just as irresponsible as she is, boar,” Felix scoffed.

“Harsh words, Felix. Need I remind you that our professor also has her clerical duties to the church to take care of, as well as her teaching responsibilities?” Dimitri insisted. Dedue sighed next to him.

“No need to defend your girlfriend, Your Highness. Felix is just trying to get a reaction out of you,” Sylvain said with a chuckle. 

“Sylvain-” Dimitri started, but was interrupted by Dedue’s hand on his shoulder.

“We should get going,” he repeated.

“Right,” Dimitri said under his breath, hoping nobody else in the class heard Sylvain’s snide remark. 

As the students filtered out of the room, Dimitri was cornered by Sylvain, who told his peers to go on ahead without him. The upturned corner of his mouth as he looked to Dimitri said all.

“So, Your Highness, did you enjoy your little getaway with the professor?” the smug redhead said.

“W-what are you talking about?” Dimitri stuttered out. 

“I know you were found alone with Professor Byleth alone. In the woods. In a tent,” Sylvain said, obviously savoring every word that fell off his tongue. Dedue cleared his throat awkwardly. 

“I actually remembered. I left something important at my quarters. Please excuse me,” Dedue said softly. He was swiftly out the door before Dimitri could plead with him to stay.

“Where did you hear such a thing, Sylvain? A trustworthy source, I’m sure?” said Dimitri, treading carefully. 

“I have my ways. Mind if I give you a word of advice?” said Sylvain. 

“Please, I assure, wherever your wild imagination has led you, that is not the case. And-”

“Dimitri. Cut it out. I’m not accusing you of anything. Can we just...talk?” the sudden sincerity in Sylvain’s voice surprised Dimitri.

“What is it, Sylvain?” he asked. 

“I know she means a lot to you. Byleth, I mean. But you need to think ahead. As a concerned friend, maybe involving yourself with your teacher isn’t the greatest idea. You have a reputation to upkeep, after all,” said Sylvain. He continued, as if reading the prince’s mind. 

“I know, I know. Pretty rich coming from me, huh? You can take my advice or you can ignore it. Just...be careful, okay? I wouldn’t want you to do anything to piss off the church,” he said.

“I see. Thank you for your concern, my friend. I’ll think about what you’ve said,” Dimitri said solemnly, swallowing back a lump in his throat. “But I still must insist-nothing happened!” 

“Sure, Your Highness. In any case, I’ll let you get going. Not trying to twist your arm, but our country’s counting on you. I’ll see ya later,” Sylvain waved, making his exit. The ensuing silence in the classroom rang in Dimitri’s ears.

Of course. Of _course_ Sylvain was right. But remaining friends would be fine, wouldn’t it? 

“We both know you wouldn’t be satisfied with that,” a deep voice declared from behind him. 

In the corner was Lambert, holding a book and flipping absentmindedly through the pages. Dimitri dared not answer. He knew that when his father took such a tone, he was to listen, not speak. 

“You tend to obsess, Dimitri. Now what I need for you to do is pull your head out of the clouds of your current fixation and focus on the task at hand. What you’re _truly_ here for. Do you understand?” Lambert instructed, his eyes narrowed as he turned his head to face Dimitri. 

He hated that look. That look he received so many times as a child, in which his father needn’t say a word- but the furrowed brow, the shape of his eyes, and the slight purse of his lips said everything. That _look_ voiced Lambert’s disappointment in him far more than words ever could, and Dimitri hated himself for how often he was able to evoke it from his father. 

“You had better get going,” Lambert ordered. Who was Dimitri to argue? He left the classroom and wiped the sweat from his brow, making a beeline to find Dedue and get going to Lake Teutates.

~~~~

What greeted Dimitri and Dedue at the meeting spot with Byleth did nothing for the prince’s mood. Byleth was packed to go, but was not alone-Yuri stood next to her, hands on his hips.

“I did not realize we’d be interrupting something,” said Dimitri.

“Not at all. It was me who interrupted. I couldn’t help but notice our little sunshine standing all by her lonesome here. I had a belated birthday gift to give her anyway,” Yuri smirked. Dimitri hoped the fire erupting across his cheeks was not as noticeable as it felt.

“Yuri wanted to come with us to Lake Teutates. I figured we could use an extra body, just in case,” Byleth said. 

”Yeah, I’ll be like a bodyguard for your little ragtag team!” said Yuri. 

“But what would be in it for you?” asked Dimitri. 

“What, you don’t believe my offer of altruism? It’s not enough to want to protect our dearest professor and archbishop-to-be?” Yuri teased. 

“I just did not take you for one to take on charity projects,” Dimitri retorted. 

“You're a sharp one! I’m not ignorant to the rumors about that place. This could be a perfect opportunity for me to score some rare items. The chance of the rumors being true are slim, but I’ve been known to gamble on slimmer odds,” Yuri explained. 

“It’s fine with me if he comes. Do you guys have any objections? Dimitri, Dedue?” said Byleth. 

“There are no objections from me. Your Highness?” Answered Dedue. 

“I don’t mind at all,” Dimitri lied. 

~~~~ 

The group ventured into Kingdom territory on horseback in the direction of Lake Teutates. The journey was almost cathartic. Dimitri loved channeling his energy into his riding, his troubled consciousness drowned out by the howling wind whirring past him. 

The edge of the lake appeared into view sooner than Dimitri would have liked. A heavy fog hung over the water, and to the group’s surprise, a series of ancient ruins was scattered across the lake. It felt ethereal and otherworldly, and it unnerved Dimitri greatly. 

“Well, this’ll be fun, won’t it?” said Yuri as they dismounted.

“This is off to an intriguing start, that’s for sure,” Byleth replied. 

“We should properly arm ourselves before we get too far. There could be looters or bandits hiding in the fog,” said Dedue.

“You’re right. We should prepare for the worst,” Byleth agreed.

Taking in his surroundings, Dimitri’s gaze fixated on a silhouette from beyond the haze. It was humanoid, but it moved like an apparition-ghostly, like a sheet. It brandished a weapon, and Dimitri was suddenly aware of a throbbing headache. The shadow swung its weapon at nothing, reminding him of training with Glenn. He was reminded so much of Glenn. He just needed to get a little closer and see him. Just a bit closer.

“Your Highness? What’s the matter?” asked Dedue, concerned.

Dimitri snapped to attention, feeling as though he had awoken from a dream.

“Yes, I’m fine,” he replied automatically. He glanced back to the fog, and the silhouette was gone.

“So what exactly are we after here, sunshine?” asked Yuri as they ventured into the fog.

“Hopefully nothing. If the rumors of a monster here turned out to be true, then it’s the church’s job to take care of the threat,” Byleth replied. 

“...Sure, whatever you say,” Yuri laughed.

“Hmph. Why are _you_ really here, then?” Byleth retorted.

“Not falling for my tales of treasure hunting, eh? Well, what would you say if I told you that I just wanted to spend some time with you?” Yuri smiled. Dimitri felt a sickening drop in his stomach.

“Your flattery won’t work on me, Yuri,” Byleth said. At least she wasn’t giving in to his advances.

“ _What are you even thinking? You don’t own her. Quit being disgusting,_ ” Glenn whispered to him. So he was present after all. 

“In any case, these ruins are quite unusual, aren’t they?” Dedue mused. “We should be careful.”

“Yeah. Thank you, Dedue. I have my doubts as to whether or not there’s anything here, anyway,” Byleth assured him.

“I don’t know, friend. You ever heard of something called The Inexhaustible?” Yuri interrupted. 

“No? What is it?” Byleth responded. 

“A bow said to be forged by the master blacksmith Saint Indech himself. A sacred weapon with powers that one need not even possess a crest to unlock!” Yuri replied. His story sounded fantastical at best, but when Dimitri looked to Byleth, he could see thoughts racing just by looking at her. 

The taps of their shoes against the polished stone pathways echoed hollowly. The otherworldly sound was like an omen. 

A flash of movement, barely visible. 

“Everyone! Get down!” Dimitri exclaimed. 

His warning came jusr in time as an arrow hurtled over them. 

“We’re under attack? Here?” Byleth said.

Through the fog, a group of soldiers emerged, weapons drawn. Their assailants appeared to be simple bandits, and Dimitri was both disappointed and relieved to find they were clearly unaffiliated with the group that had been targeting Byleth. 

“Have ruffians made these ruins their hideout?” said Dedue. 

Dimitri’s stomach turned as Byleth lunged at one of the bandits without warning. One clean strike through the abdomen. The grotesque noise of pierced flesh echoed. 

But the ruffian shed no blood, made no sound, and expressed no signs of pain. Dimitri’s party stopped dead in their tracks when Byleth’s victim disappeared like a phantom. 

“They’re…illusions?” Yuri said. Even _he_ seemed taken aback. 

“What in the world is going on here?” said Dimitri. 

He looked to Byleth, who had been quiet. Her eyes glowed with an unusual fire. Her demeanor struck a chord of uneasiness with Dimitri as he remembered her rampage on the field of the mock battle. 

There was nothing else to do but press on ahead.

“Children of man disturbing my sanctuary?” Interesting…” a monstrous voice boomed from the distance. 

“Gods, what now?” said Yuri. 

“Where did that come from? We should…” Dedue trailed off as the fog parted to reveal a huge beast perched on the stone across the water. 

A demonic beast?

No, this one was different. It looked like a giant turtle, if turtles were the size of an umbral monster and could speak. 

“You…” the creature breathed out, looking at Byleth. 

“You have the stink of Sothis upon you.” 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW MACUIL SAYS THAT LAST LINE NOT INDECH BUT IT WORKS HERE OKAY.... 
> 
> Anyway follow me on twitter whee hee hee twitter.com/itswingberry


	9. Divine Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth leaves Lake Teutates dissatisfied, Dimitri is starting to Go Through It™ again, Byleth's first meeting with the cardinals leads her to make a discovery about Rhea, and the Battle of the Eagle and Lion is here!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK HELLO.....  
> So you might notice the rating has gone down on this story. Basically, with the direction the story is going right now, I no longer plan to have smut in this fic. Sorry if that's disappointing! There will still be sex most likely later on, but it will not be detailed/will just be implied. STILL NO KIDS ALLOWED SO IF UR UNDER 18 GO AWAY PLS.
> 
> I've been focusing on my three zines and my day job, so sorry again for my absence!! Please support the projects that I'm working hard on as a composer/writer/mod in! (links below)
> 
> My fics have been on the back burner so I'm just trying to have fun with it and not take myself so seriously. Thanks as always for the sweet support y'all have shown thus far. Talk soon! <3 
> 
> (also i hope y'all don't mind a shorter chapter even after like 2 months OOPS)
> 
> https://twitter.com/feostzine  
> https://twitter.com/fe3hfm  
> https://twitter.com/fewriterszine

* * *

Byleth felt her blood run cold. 

“How do you know that name?” she demanded.

The phantoms once infesting the ruins of the lake disappeared as Byleth engaged the beast. So _it_ was the one controlling them.

“Long ago, she was one of us. Our leader,” the beast said cryptically. 

“Who is ‘us’? Who are you? _What_ are you?” said Byleth.

“What a troublesome pest,” the beast mused.

“Might you be the one called The Immovable?” Dimitri interrupted. 

“I care not for whatever foolish titles the children of men have seen fit to bestow upon me,” answered the beast.

The dread pooling in Byleth’s stomach only deepened in The Immovable’s presence. She could feel Sothis reaching out to take control, but Byleth knew she couldn’t afford to slip up-not when the answers she sought out felt so close to being within her grasp. 

“What would you have us call you, then?” Byleth asked. The Immovable turned slowly toward her, something within him seeming to soften. 

“So. You truly do not recognize me, then. I suppose it does not work that way,” the beast mused to itself. 

“It would really be in your best interest to elaborate,” Yuri said, sensing Byleth’s growing frustration.

The Immovable’s laughter shook the ground around them. “These crest-bearing humans are quite bold!” the beast exclaimed.

“You can imagine how surprised we are, having never encountered something like you before. We do not mean to give offense,” said Dedue, ever the peacemaker.

“I see. Unsurprising. I suppose Seiros’s influence continues to spread across this land,” said The Immovable.

“Did you say ‘Seiros’? What does Saint Seiros have to do with anything?” Byleth interjected, fighting her intense nausea. 

“Indeed, Sothis incarnate. Seiros, one of my brethren. I’m sure you are familiar,” said the beast. 

Sothis incarnate. Such a title made her feel as though she could vomit.

“We are all quite familiar,” Dimitri answered.

“Perhaps, then, you are familiar with the name ‘Indech’? It is a name by which I was once called,” The Immovable said. 

Byleth and her companions were stunned. Sure, legends surely varied by source about Seiros and the Saints-but they _all_ agreed that the Saints were long dead. Since nearly a millennium had passed since history saw their exploits, they _should_ have been long dead. 

“How is that possible?” said Dimitri, though his voice sounded far away. 

“You can choose to believe it or not, mortals. When Nemesis decided to meddle, Seiros mobilized what was left of us in Sothis’s place,” said Indech. 

“Nemesis, meddling? But I thought....gah! Now I’m confused. This is why I keep my nose out of the church and its history,” said Yuri, throwing his hands in the air.

Sothis had stayed eerily quiet in her head. No...rather, her voice was incoherent and cacophonous. It was difficult to hear what everyone was saying over her voice. Breathe. Keep the feather afloat. She was long past the point of allowing her to take control. 

“But, if you are truly Saint Indech, then-” Byleth began to say. 

“Halt. I shall reveal no more to you. I already feel myself at the beginning of the downhill slope of being drawn back into the disgusting world of man once more. Since you lot deprived me of my fun, I would ask you to leave my sight,” Indech declared. 

A beat of silence. 

“No.” Byleth said. 

“I _beg_ your pardon?” Indech boomed angrily.

“I’ve worked so hard up to this point, and I’ve waited so long for answers. You can’t just stop _now!_ ” she pleaded. 

“Of course I can. And I will. If you cannot accept that, then I challenge you to strike me down,” said Indech. 

Byleth’s hand hovered over the Sword of the Creator. 

“Yes, strike me down with that accursed weapon, crafted from the remains of those I once held dear. Prove to me what base animals you humans are,” Indech egged her on. 

“Byleth, please. We can devise a further course of action back at the monastery,” Dimitri urged. 

But his pleading was unnecessary. Indech claimed he would say no more, but he had just allowed something interesting to slip. This wouldn’t be the last time Byleth would come here, and she had enough information to work with for the time being. 

“I shall not end your life here today, Indech. That would be a waste,” Byleth said. “We have no more business here, folks. Shall we get going?” 

Dimitri, Dedue, and Yuri silently heeded her suggestion. Saint Indech was still as they departed. He kept his illusory warriors at bay, allowing them a peaceful walk back to their horses. 

“So, uh. We’re _really_ walking away without any treasure, huh?” said Yuri, breaking the awkward silence. Exasperated sighs waved across the group. 

“Perhaps a bit too early for jests,” Dimitri said. 

“Oh come on, you all are way too serious. Lighten up!” said the purple haired trickster, shaking his head. 

Their annoying chatter agitated Byleth’s intense headache. Shut _up_. 

“By the way, it might be best for us all to keep what happened here to ourselves. At least for now,” Byleth added quietly. 

“Don’t think you’ll have to worry about any of that from _me._ I still have to keep on the church’s good side, remember?” said Yuri. 

“I have a feeling that even if we did share our findings, there would be few who believed us,” said Dedue. 

“You have a point there, my friend,” Yuri agreed. 

“Byleth?” Dimitri said, sidling up next to his professor. “Are you quite alright?” 

“I’m fine, Dimitri. Let’s get back home,” Byleth said shortly. 

_Why couldn’t they all stay quiet?_

She didn’t look up from the ground to see the hurt in Dimitri’s eyes. 

* * *

With the arrival of the Wyvern Moon came the departure of wyverns south for the winter, along with the famed Battle of the Eagle and Lion between the three houses of the Officer’s Academy. There was much work left to be done in preparation for it, which would have easily filled Byleth’s schedule for the month. 

However, Rhea demanded her successor’s presence doubly, scheduling her for meetings with priests, knights, directors, and even the cardinals. 

The moon would be overwhelmingly busy, but she was excited. The Battle of the Eagle and Lion would let her blow off some steam, and her first meeting with the cardinals would finally reveal the truth of their identities to her. If she could befriend even one of them, the boundless secrets of the church could be opened up to her. 

Her mind had singled in on her research in the days since coming back. After all, she had only a finite amount of time before she would need to dedicate herself fully to the duties at hand. 

The church would have the people of Fódlan believe Saint Seiros to be a messenger from the goddess herself, who delivered the people from the tyrannical clutches of the mad King Nemesis. 

But her ally, Saint Indech, was alive and well, claiming Sothis as their leader. The history of Fódlan, nor the Book of Seiros mentioned her name. 

Sothis. The enigma tying it all together-the missing link. Would the blessed Saint Seiros really have followed one as wicked as Sothis, the demon who plagued her mind? 

Byleth feared that perhaps history had painted Saint Seiros and her warriors as heroes, when heroes they were not. Perhaps the church was erected for these beasts, hiding in the light, to gain control over the people of Fódlan by preying on their faith and devotion. 

And Byleth continued to sit, a lapdog to their institution. Were it not for a mysterious woman’s ethereal presence in her dreams, Byleth wouldn’t have believed in the goddess at all. 

* * *

The fifth of the Wyvern Moon. Byleth could hardly catch her breath as she made her way to the cardinals’ room. On what would normally be a free day, Byleth was moments away from her first meeting with the cardinals. Her heart might have leaped out of her chest had it any beat at all.

A hushed blanket of whispers erupted over the cloaked figures as Byleth pushed the heavy oak doors open. Their rather rude chattering aside, the cardinals seemed, for all intents and purposes, entirely normal. 

**There you go, setting yourself up for disappointment again. You’re just like a little kid!**

Why would the church so heavily guard their identities if there were no secrets to hide? Byleth recognized each of their faces from around the monastery grounds. She knew them as priests, researchers, clerics. 

Rhea was present too, as expected. Instead of her usual archbishop robes, she donned the garb from the night at the Holy Tomb when the Sword of the Creator was thrust upon her. Byleth’s excitement to discover new information on the church was quickly replaced with dread of what was to come. 

“Byleth. Thank you for being punctual. We shall begin now,” said Rhea. The softness in her voice was gone, and her elegant language no longer graced her sentences. Like that night in the Holy Tomb, it was as though she were a completely different person. Byleth wondered which of Rhea’s masks was her true face. 

“Your Grace, what shall be our first order of business?” asked one of the cardinals. Byleth recognized her as Sarah, a cleric. Perhaps the cardinals, too, wore a different mask when gathered under such circumstances.

“As you can all see, we have Byleth here with us. Normally, any who step foot in such a sacred meeting would undergo initiation. However, my successor shall be an exception. She is destined for far greater,” Rhea said, standing at the head of the table. Instead of finding clarity, Byleth was only met with even more mystery. 

“Yes, Your Grace,” the cardinals said in unison. 

“Byleth has mastered the Sword of the Creator with ease. That sword crafted from the remains of our fallen…” Rhea trailed off, appearing as though she were mourning for a moment. 

“Yes, Your Grace,” the cardinals repeated again. It was entirely unsettling.

“Byleth’s mastery of the legendary Sword of the Creator no doubt proves her worthiness as a future vessel for the Church of Seiros. It will also prove her worthy to lead us in the struggle against the mysterious enemies who would see harm befall the church and its followers. We must be diligent in eliminating these threats, and tackling the growing number of demonic beast sightings,” Rhea preached. There was an uncharacteristic fire in her eyes. 

Vessel, she had said. A strange way to refer to the archbishop-to-be. 

“Yes, Your Grace.” 

“These threats include the elusive assassins who have attempted to end Byleth’s life. Against those who would blaspheme directly against the goddess so heinously, we must be merciless.” Rhea’s words were not those of an archbishop at a conference, but of a ruthless warrior ready to lead her fellow soldiers into battle.

**I wish I could see your face right now. I bet your look is priceless!**

“Mother Rhea, if I may...What about my duties at the Officers Academy?” Byleth said, realizing she had been silent the whole time.

“Your role as a professor is a mere afterthought in comparison to your duty to the Church of Seiros. You would do well to remember this,” said Rhea. Life had its own cruel way of reminding Byleth just how little control she had over her own life.

“After the mock battle at Gronder Field, you can expect more field assignments with the Knights of Seiros. With you as a rising figurehead of the church, you can represent the power and splendor of those who follow the goddess,” Rhea said, waxing poetic. 

“Yes, Mother Rhea,” Byleth said compliantly. Now would not be an ideal time to cause a scene.

“Would that be neglectful, Your Grace?” one of the cardinals chimed in. Byleth recognized her as Andria, a priestess specializing in the history of the Four Saints.

The look Rhea shot her way was piercing. 

“Elaborate,” she commanded. 

“Lady Byleth is the professor of the Blue Lions, correct? If she uses the role to her advantage, she could have significant influence over the Kingdom of Faerghus. She and the prince have been acquainted for some time now, yes?” said the cardinal. 

“Whether there is truth to your words or not, it is sinful to oppose my words. I, who laid the very foundation for the Church of Seiros,” Rhea said angrily. 

A flash of light appeared before her in the shape of the Crest of Seiros.

Andria, who cried out in anguish, fell from her seat. Scaly patches appeared slowly up her neck as she writhed in pain. 

_“I, who laid the foundations for the Church of Seiros._ ” Rhea’s words echoed in Byleth’s mind. 

**Trying to distract yourself from the person screaming in pain on the floor?**

“Mercy, Your Grace! A thous- _agh!_ -A thousand apologies!” the cardinal managed to choke out.

Apparently feeling gracious, Rhea released what otherworldly hold she had on Andria. Trying to stifle her gasps for breath, Andria crawled back into her seat as if nothing had happened. Around the table, the other cardinals kept their heads down, eyes on the dark oak table before them.

“You, who have received my holy blood. You shall not speak so brazenly against me,” Rhea said insidiously. 

“Yes, Your Grace,” replied Andria, devoid of emotion. 

Byleth’s head was swimming, wondering what to make of what had transpired. She tuned the rest of the meeting out as she mapped things out in her head. 

Initiation, receiving holy blood...Byleth thought to the horrific story Jacob had told her in the tavern in Abyss.

The statue in Abyss. Rhea’s major crest of Seiros. Her eternally youthful appearance. Her recollection of history as thoughts he had experienced it firsthand. Indech himself alluded to Seiros’s continuing exploits, as though she were still alive. 

It was she who founded the Adrestian Empire, and laid the foundations for the Church of Seiros. 

Archbishop Rhea _was_ Saint Seiros.

* * *

The eleventh of the Wyvern Moon. Despite the Battle of the Eagle and Lion still being weeks away, the Blue Lions classroom was filled with nothing but anticipated chatter about the upcoming battle. 

It was overwhelming for Byleth. She considered herself a pillar in the face of workplace pressure, but she could not tear her mind away from the events at Lake Teutates. 

**I must say, watching you scramble around over all of this meaningless nonsense is quite entertaining. It is like watching an ant struggle to carry a piece of food that is too heavy!**

Sothis’s cackle fell on deaf ears as Byleth wrapped up her lesson for the day. At least the mock battle would afford her even a brief time to forget about it all. 

“Hello, Professor,” Dimitri said, approaching her desk after class. 

“Hello.” 

“Forgive my saying so, but you look exhausted. I would advise you not to push yourself too hard,” said Dimitri. Byleth did not want to be preached to.

“I simply worry about you, Byleth,” he added softly. His tender heart filled her with guilt.

“I’m sorry, Dimitri. But everything’s starting to come together, and I’ve had a realization, of sorts. I just don’t know what to do about it,” Byleth explained, trying to hide her growing exasperation. Why did her head feel so hot?

“If you cannot change anything in the moment, then I beg of you: let it-and yourself-rest. What good will a body spent past exhaustion do you?” said Dimitri. Rich words, coming from his lips.

“Dimitri, if I didn’t know any better, it sounds as though you’re trying to stifle me,” Byleth retorted.

“That is not my intention. I am eager to hear of the revelation you have had. I am only worried about you, as a friend who cares very much for you,” said Dimitri. A rosy hue overtook his cheeks.

“I see. You would not believe me, even if I told you,” Byleth said dismissively.

“I have believed you thus far, just as you have believed me and my plights,” he reassured her.

Silence.

**If you let this little hypothesis of yours fall on the wrong ears, you could throw the whole continent into disarray. Especially if you happen to be** **_wrong._ **

Byleth was almost sure she hated Sothis more when she was right than when she was berating her.

“I…” 

**Don’t.**

“It’s about Rhea, she-”

“Yes?” Dimitri leaned in closer, as though the action would allow him to hear better.

**You’ll regret it, Byleth. I’m going to say I told you so.**

“Rhea is Saint Seiros.” The words spilled from her mouth, like ink-black vomit and it made her stomach lurch much the same way.

“As in... _the_ Saint Seiros?” Dimitri said incredulously.

“Yes. The very same,” Byleth replied.

“But that is...it’s impossible. Saint Seiros lived nearly one thousand years ago,” he said. 

“I told you you wouldn’t believe me,” Byleth said. She needed him to leave. Her anger was close to boiling over.

“I did not mean to be dismissive. I apologize, I simply-” 

“Dimitri. I’m sorry, but I have a lot to get done, as you can imagine. I tire of this topic. I will see you tomorrow in class,” Byleth cut him off, refusing to look him in the eye.

“I see. Very well, Professor. Farewell,” Dimitri said shortly. 

Byleth was thankful as Dimitri disappeared that the classroom window was already open to let in the autumn breeze. She emptied the contents of her stomach out onto the ground, and she could have sworn she felt Sothis’s hand on her shoulder.

* * *

Dimitri was no stranger to abandonment, but somehow this hurt was different. She was drifting away from him not by the uncontrollable call of the eternal flames, but by her own volition. Their history didn’t matter. The brief friendship in childhood couldn’t mend the awkwardness between them. 

“Dimitri…” 

They were here to visit again. They had been appearing more often lately. 

Dimitri didn’t reply. He never did-he was there to listen to their instructions, to appease their wishes. 

“You know nothing about her,” Lambert’s voice was clear and commanding.

But surely he knew more than most? 

“Come now. You’ve had your fun, and I’ve been more than patient with you,” Lambert continued. 

It was the truth.

“But I cannot stand to watch you in this facade anymore. Just as you know nothing about that girl, she and your classmates know nothing about you. Your obsession is getting out of control. Focus on those of us who need you the most,” Lambert implored him.

Yes. How could he have strayed so far from his path? To save those lost to the flames, he must focus on revenge. Revenge would surely deliver them from eternal torment. That was his purpose, his reason for being here. How foolish to lose sight of something so important. 

Despite it, he could not shake thoughts of Byleth away from the back of his mind.

* * *

The twenty-seventh of the Wyvern Moon. Finally, it was the day of the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. A day that Byleth had been looking forward to the entire moon. Feeling lost in a tumultuous sea of uncertainty, the mock battle would allow her some time to lose herself in the fray. Though she was not her student, she felt tension with Edelgard. She had pushed away a student who had inadvertently reached out to her for help, and might even have been a useful well of information in her own quest. She also pushed Dimitri further and further away, how many more matches would she light, burning away the bridges leading to anything good in her life? 

The Blue Lions took their places on the field. The air was teeming with the students’ excited energy. Each house was determined and eager to emerge victorious in the school year’s most momentous occasion. 

Their base was nestled across the river a ways from the Black Eagles and nearer to the Golden Deer.

Byleth devised their strategy on her faith. Faith that Edelgard’s fiery determination would guide the Black Eagles offensively. Faith that Claude’s strategic carefulness would translate into a defensive strategy for the Golden Deer. 

From her place in the formation, Byleth peered up at the cliff overlooking Gronder field, where Rhea’s caravan stood. 

The archbishop looked out at the field with judging eyes. And standing next to her was Seteth, as well as a familiar but unexpected face.

“Dad!?” she exclaimed as he met her gaze. They could not hear each other from the long distance between them, but his grin back at her was toothy and mischievous. It looked like the captain of the knights would be overseeing the battle as well. The Blue Lions victory must be precise. 

**If you lose, you’ll be disappointing everyone you care about. No pressure.**

She resolved to let her father’s presence motivate her that much further.

Byleth looked to Dimitri, between whom she could almost grasp the tension hanging in the air. She knew she had been wrong to snap at him and push him away, but for most of the busy month she had all but forgotten about their ordeal.

**Because all you can think about is yourself, even if you don’t want to admit it.**

They wordlessly took their places in the formation as the chatter gradually quieted. Dimitri stood next to her, his expression barely readable. 

“Hey, Dimitri? I-” Byleth started without thinking. She was interrupted by the clear sound of the trumpets signifying the beginning of the battle

“We’ll talk later, Professor,” Dimitris said, his voice barely audible over the brassy fanfare.

Right. Time to do what they came to do.

Byleth had intended only to focus on the heat of battle, but instead found her attention focused on her students as they took the field.

Dedue marched wielding his axe effortlessly. 

The once meek Ashe strode with confidence, his bow drawn and ready. 

Ingrid’s handling of her pegasus was near mastery; Byleth recalled how adamant the aspiring knight had been about focusing on riding instead of flying. 

Sylvain had never looked more serious and focused. In getting to know him, Byleth learned that the young noble was dutiful when it counted. 

Annette and Mercedes had grown into magical powerhouses; Annette focusing on offense and Mercedes excelling in healing. Their polar talents made them a duo to be reckoned with. 

Felix wielded a thin blade in one hand and a black magic spell in the other-something none of his classmates had ever expected from him. Byleth was relieved that he had taken so easily to magic and reason.

And Dimitri, gallantly brandishing his lance on horseback. He was doing his best to look composed and confident, but something seemed to be weighing on his mind.

Each of her students had grown so much in different ways, and Byleth couldn’t help but feel a bit proud. 

**It’s not your place to take credit for this.**

The rules for the Battle of the Eagle and Lion were quite similar to that of the previous mock battle. The Blue Lions’ cautiously offensive strategy seemed to pan out favorably as the fight progressed and they slowly overtook the field.

Until a stray Dark Spikes spell sent Dimitri tumbling to the ground, near the outskirts of the mapped battle grounds. Byleth rushed to his side, cradling him as the fight continued to rage on in the distance. 

There was a hole torn in his riding pants, just below where his armor ended. The nasty welt forming on his skin was unmistakably a dark magic wound. She didn’t see which student had been so careless as to fire such a potent spell directly at another student. Had Byleth witnessed it, she would have seen to it that the student be duly punished.

“Professor, I am sorry to worry you. Please, this is nothing,” said Dimitri, trying to keep his voice clear and steady. 

“Nonsense. I’m treating you,” Byleth insisted, fumbling in her waist pouch for salve as she administered a healing spell.

“It is not urgent. I will not allow you to waste these precious moments on me. You must lead the class to victory,” said Dimitri, his eyebrow scrunching as he shifted his leg.

“Please just let me do this for you! I...I’m not going to push you away again. I’m going to be here for you this time,” Byleth said.

**You’re doing this for yourself and your guilty conscience. Not for him.**

“...Very well.” said Dimitri.

Byleth dressed and treated the bubbling gash with her emergency supplies, the silence between them suffocating her. 

“So, am I to take this as an apology, then?” said Dimitri, and she looked up to meet his gaze. His small smile returned the air to her lungs. It was okay.

“Yes. I’m sorry, Dimitri. Even after all this time, all I seem to do is push you away,” Byleth said earnestly. 

“I accept your apology. After all, who is to look after such dysfunctional wretches as us except each other?” Dimitri chuckled.

“Hm-hm. I suppose you’re right,” Byleth replied.

Once his leg was sufficiently bandaged up, Dimitri was able to stand, albeit with a limp. 

“Doesn’t look like you’ll be able to get back to fighting, unfortunately,” Byleth said.

“Even if I were able, I’ve been disqualified, have I not? That hit on me was decisive and true,” replied Dimitri. 

“That doesn't matter. I know Dark Spikes when I see it-that spell is an illegal move for a mock battle. If I knew who it was, I would have immediately disqualified them,” Byleth said, irritated, to which Dimitri laughed. 

“In any case, I’ll be alright. Go now, Professor, and secure us a victory!” Dimitri exclaimed, cheering her on. 

With a nod, Byleth rushed back into the fray in the direction of the Black Eagles’ fort across the river. They seemed to have made amends, but she still felt uneasy. With the weight of Sothis whispering in the back of her mind, the uncertainty of what lay beneath Dimitri’s mask of cordiality, and Edelgard’s evaluating stare as she approached her makeshift stronghold, Byleth almost felt herself falter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will forever suck at any type of combat writing and I Pretend I Do Not See It!
> 
> We will be focusing some more on Dima soon...

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me if u want lmao  
> twitter.com/itswingberry


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